The Next Life
by Pantharya
Summary: AU. Pleasantview had long been a peaceful city, yet when the supernatural begins to reign supreme only the long forgotten past can provide direction to those involved.
1. Chapter 1

~ Kingdom Hearts ~

Next Life – Chapter One

"Good Evening, Doctor Green. Here's your patient for this evening," the lovely brunette receptionist chirped as she handed the clipboard over. She smiled the true smile of someone actually content with their life, handling her administrative duties with the skill and ease that earned her more money than she would ever care to admit. On this day her shirt was orange and sleeveless, matching her high orange socks and cream coloured pants, all bringing out the blue eyes in her young face. She was truly a valuable asset of Pleasantview Township Hospital, curing any complaints with her comforting smiles and chiming laughter, solving disputes before they even started, and quite possibly leaving out the small depositories of mints in the staff coffee lounge, though no-one had been able to catch her doing it thus far. None of her fellow employees doubted that she would go on to live an incredibly happy life completely free from any sort of supernatural trouble. They would be largely correct in their assumptions, excusing a brief encounter near the coffee machine which she would neither remember nor ever need to.

The receiver of the clipboard wouldn't be so lucky. First name Zexion, Doctor Green was quite possibly one of the most gifted minds the hospital had ever seen. If this was true, then he was also the most underappreciated employee in the entire history of Pleasantview. In truth, he wasn't quite a doctor, but even as an intern he liked to assume the authority of a full resident. No-one called him down for it. No-one even noticed. He was partially convinced he could get away with murder with all the attention he received in the workplace, and was continually surprised that they continued to pay him whilst barely acknowledging his existence. In truth, there were a select few of his work associates who paid him more attention than Zexion was even slightly aware of, and he would very likely regret ever finding out why.

The receptionist was not one of them. With a friendly smile and a brief nod she was back to her typing without another word. Doctor Zexion Green frowned sullenly down at the clipboard for a long moment before swishing in his just-a-bit-too-long doctorly coat down the pristine hospital corridor, habitually walking around the clusters of fellow employees currently laughing amongst themselves. They wouldn't see him even if he stood on their foot - he had tried it once. Well, almost. He had ended up just tapping them on the shoulder and watching them fumble between themselves over what his name was, despite the fact that he had worked with some of them for three years straight, and gone to the same college as the rest. He had taken to wearing a name tag ever since, and as far as he could tell only the receptionist had noticed it so far. It was small progress, but progress all the same. Perhaps soon they'd start noticing when he didn't show up for work without any explanation at all. He had tried that one too. He still wasn't sure if he was happy they paid him for that day or not.

Zexion finished flicking through his new patient's details and couldn't help but wishing he had decided to take this day off instead. His patient was one Roxas Cain, and Zexion hadn't needed the well typed notations to tell him that he was one of the most well known names in all of Pleasantview. The youngest son of the now retired Mayor Cain, Roxas had lived a life well in the public view and loved every moment of it. He was just reaching nineteen now, and any street that was lucky enough to grace his presence would soon be swarming with women of every age flocking around screechily to even get a glimpse of him. The amount of money he was sure to have thrown around made Zexion cringe. He was very much not looking forward to spending any amount of time with this kid at all - he didn't even have to do anything! They just needed someone to mind him overnight so he wouldn't accidentally unplug and kill himself. Apparently Roxas had seen it necessary to rush into a burning building in some vague attempt to gaining more public attention, as if he needed any more. There hadn't actually been anyone _in _the building to save when he had rushed into it, but the media had managed to spin the tragic hero angle on it like they were paid to just fine. In Zexion's eyes it was almost justice that he had suffered serious injury, but then also poetic irony that poor-intern-who-had-put-himself-into-alarming-debt –for-the-rest-of-his-life-to-even-be-here Zexion himself would be aiding him back to perfect health. Sometimes Zexion really wondered just what the world was trying to do to him. It was probably some kind of tasteless joke that everyone but him would find funny. Whatever it was, it was undoubtedly incredibly successful so far.

Zexion slowed his brisk walk to a milder pace and took a deep breath. Surely it was just chance. No-one here was deliberately trying to make him look stupid. One day he would prove himself, and until then he would wade through the idiots who stapled their hands together until they finally took him off his training wheels. Yes, things would get better. Statistically speaking they couldn't possibly get any worse.

He paused as he caught a glimpse of himself in the long hallway mirror. His high collared doctor's coat shone spotless white in the bright lights. His angled purple hair hung down in front of his face, looking sharp and tidy as usual. Black framed square glasses sat ever so precisely on the centre nose, while his lips curved down in his ever present frown, completely reflecting the monotony of his entire working life. It was enough to make him want to throw things in frustration. He had had enough waiting, he wanted his life to start, and he wanted it to start now. No amount of gentle stepping internship was going to do that, yet it was all he had. His work encompassed all that he was, and Zexion hated himself for it. He had written blogs on this very subject, blogs which he was absolutely certain nobody read. If only there was some escape. Some magical hallway he could dart down where he actually _did _things outside of work, and had _friends _to do them with, and didn't have to watch all his career opportunities get hand given to less adequate people.

Resisting the urge to check the nearest broom cupboard for any such thing, Zexion resumed his gentle paces towards his patient's room. His entire life so far may have been an elaborate joke at his expense, but things would change. Positive thinking, that was the trick. How many times had he tried this? No, no matter. Smiling bunnies. Yes, that sort of thing. The thought reminded Zexion of a friend of his who was always sunshine and rainbows. Well, at least he seemed so. He hadn't met him properly in years, living on opposite sides of town and all, but they had quite a good long distance friendship working if he did say so himself. Zexion straightened his collar slightly as he tried to recall the contents of his most recent email. Had he replied to that last one yet? Surely he had. It's not like he had any other sort of life outside of work. Just books, and the internet. With a snarl he stopped himself from looking in the nearest cupboard again. Sunshine, Daisies. Yes, Yellow things. Lots of Yellow.

Zexion's attempts at mentally willing himself into a better mood ceased as he stood quietly in the elevator, brought out of his reverie at the sight of the person passing through the doors. M. Xemnas was chief resident, and without a doubt he was everything an intern should aspire to be. On top of being tall and dashing, he was amazingly charismatic and impressively intelligent; always experimenting here and there to discover new ways the body would heal and what not. He gave occasional seminars on his more theoretical ideas concerning things medicine couldn't quite explain, of which Zexion never missed a single one. He was absolutely fascinating, and Zexion couldn't think of anyone he had ever admired more.

That, of course, did not change the fact that Zexion spent the entire elevator ride standing perfectly still in the corner while Xemnas stood completely oblivious to his existence a mere step away, watching the numbers tick up with the faint resemblance of patience. From such a close distance Xemnas was breathtaking. It would be generous to call Zexion average height, leaving Xemnas a full head and shoulders taller. His white hair hung in a way you would never see anywhere else, all slicked back at the front and loosely hanging around his shoulders. His tanned skin seemed to glow in the dim light. Zexion occupied himself by very actively breathing through his nose, trying to make as little noise as possible. But then, perhaps if he breathed louder Xemnas would hear it and speak to him. Oh, no, he didn't think he could handle that. He would just end up saying something completely unintelligent and ruin Xemnas' impression of him forever. Much safer to just pretend he hadn't noticed him. Ah, but what if he turned around and thought Zexion was ignoring him? Then he'd come across as a thousand times worse than just lame. Perhaps he should say something? Imagine being on a first name basis with _Xemnas. _

Steeling himself for what would probably be the most impulsive thing he did all week, he slowly and unsurely lifted a hand to tap Xemnas' shoulder. He took a deep breath, yet just as he started to clear his throat the floor dinged and the doors slid open, leaving Zexion faking the most unrealistic cough he'd ever heard to try to cover up his failed attempt at conversation. Still oblivious, Xemnas strode stately out of the elevator and right of sight. Rubbing the back of his head in pure embarrassment Zexion softly kicked the side of the elevator wall. See? If he had just pretended to not exist he wouldn't have been left feeling like such a shy twat. With an exasperated tsk to no-one in particular Zexion jabbed the button for his floor again. The doors waited patiently for a few doctors in equally white coats to huddle inside before closing themselves and declaring with a ding that they were ascending. The numbers changed accordingly. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven –

"Evening, Zexion."

Completely flustered, Zexion's head whipped around.

"Uh .. Uh, Evening." Zexion muttered, in what he hoped would sound friendly. Being caught completely off guard, he knew he instead sounded like a giddy prat, yet he had no time for thought. The thick jawed doctor merely nodded in response and left as the elevator reached his floor. Zexion's mind was all a-flutter with new excitement. Which doctor had that been? He had been a few years older than Zexion, that was certain, not to mention tall and impressively wide shouldered. Zexion thought he vaguely recognized the short brown hair. Perhaps he had seen him in passing once or twice. He mentally reminded himself to keep an eye out for such a haircut so he could say hi first next time, and maybe a little more besides. Someone who was willing to talk to him, now this was really something. His blog would be utterly dripping with excitement tonight, oh yes, it would.

Zexion reached his patient's door and mentally steeled himself. He dusted his non-clipboard holding hand on his coat, put on the fakest smile he could muster and swept into the room as he imagined an actually happy doctor might do. The private spacious room contained a single patient's bed - the paper curtains were drawn back to display the room's esteemed occupant in full view. With a haphazard twirl of spiky hair that completely defied the monotony of the paper thin patient gown, Roxas Cain was rather short for his age, and apparently didn't know the meaning of the word 'moderation' when it came to applying hair gel. The murderously swirl of blonde hair wouldn't have been half as bad were it on anyone else, he had to admit. The Cain's were amazingly adept at making their wealth known to everyone in sight, and apparently a hospital room didn't hold them back one bit. Masses of Get Well Soon flowers and balloons cluttered the room, leaving only just enough room for Zexion to walk around and inspect the machine Roxas was hooked up to. Clearly this was supposed to be impressive, yet Zexion knew for a fact no public visitors had been allowed in during visiting hours. It had been strictly family only due to the fragility of Roxas' condition. Physically, he seemed absolutely fine, much to Zexion's disappointment – apparently the spoiled brat would keep his good looks after all – yet the very presence of the machine itself made it amazingly clear that Roxas was brutally injured, if only on the inside.

At that moment said spoilt brat was watching the dark horizon through the window, completely oblivious to Zexion's presence whatsoever, his face one of perfectly trained boredom. Zexion had to fight very hard to keep the smile plastered on his face as he walked calmly into his line of sight, pushing his glasses up instinctively and batting a stray helium balloon out of the way. Roxas simply looked around him, as one would look around an inconveniently placed dog that had wandered into one's view of the television screen. Zexion dropped the smile.

"Roxas Cain," he began calmly, "You're very lucky to be alive right now." He looked at him expectantly. Roxas hadn't changed his expression whatsoever, still glancing with boredom out the window. Zexion continued. "Your condition is far from simple. Needless to say, this machine is all that's keeping you alive. Without it, all your internal organs will cease functioning completely-"

"Yeah yeah, whatever. How much do I pay you to fix it?"

Zexion wrinkled his nose in disgust. He had spent his entire life racking up debt just to afford tuition fees, and this kid threw around money without batting an eye lid. He would probably never need an income in his entire life, simply living off his parent's fortune and being mortally offended when he didn't get just what he wanted. It was sickening.

"It's not quite that simple. Your condition is barely stable, and none of our experts are able to determine the cause of-"

"Look, I don't _care_," the almighty Roxas interrupted, "Just bring me something to eat, I'm starving. None of that gross hospital food mind, I want what _you _eat." How did so much arrogance exist in one person? It was quite phenomenal. Perhaps his organs were failing out of pure dislike of their owner's personality? Not physically possible by any means, but it was an entertaining thought.

"I'm sorry, sir, but only those of the highest mental calibre qualify for the benefits of a medical career." Strictly, that was untrue. There was a note at the bottom of the chart outlining that the kid was to be given anything his heart so desired. He must've been paying well indeed. The kid hadn't noticed his thinly veiled insult however, so Zexion was left feeling a little smug. Intelligence one, Riches Zero. "Perhaps if you had gone to school instead of bribing your teachers to pass, you wouldn't be here right now."

Unfortunately, the added comment hadn't passed as unnoticed. The kid's head whipped around, blonde hair flying, with eyes ablaze with the fury of one being affronted with the sight of a commoner. _Oh_ how Zexion hated rich people.

"_What did you just say?"_

"Oh, nothing _sir_. Just a casual observance."

"Is that what the clipboard says? Let me see! Give it here!" Roxas extended his hand, head held high in a dignified manner not at all suiting the mortally injured. Zexion knew he had long since crossed the line of doctorly etiquette, but something was eating away at him. For once in his whole blasted career he was on the attack, and it felt _good. _He couldn't pull back now. It was either abandon all self dignity and apologise, or confront richy rich once and for all, for the good of indebted students everywhere. He knew what his choice was.

"Hmm!" Zexion hummed thoughtfully, eyes scanning over the clipboard for dramatic effect, "You know, I think I may just have to pass on that."

"Just who do you think you are! Do you _know_ who I am?"

"Only too well, _Mister Cain_, and you would do well to remember just who is the doctor here-"

"What, You? You're not even a full Doctor!"

Zexion wavered. They _told _him that? Roxas took the opportunity to sneer.

"See? Didn't need your precious doctor school to know _that_."

Grinding his teeth, Zexion slowly unclenched his fists with effort. He would not give the kid the satisfaction of seeing him try to calm himself down. He would not! This little punk would get what was coming to him.

Nostrils flaring, Zexion grinned in what could only be called malice at his stiff backed, high chinned patient.

"Now, you listen here," he spoke calmly, putting the exact amount of menacing emphasis on each word, "I do not care who you are, or how you were brought up. Right here, in this hospital, _I _amin charge, and I will remain in charge as long as you are here. In my hand is the power of your life or your death. _Do I make myself clear?_"

Completely unphased, Roxas sniffed, reclining back with his arms behind his head. 'What, is that supposed to be a threat? From a doctor? Puh-lease." He sniffed again. "I don't know what they pay you for, but I'm sure your superior would just _love _to make you a janitor once I have a chat with him. I shouldn't even be here! I was totally fine-"

Zexion's ears pricked at the sound of a sharp snapping sound. He looked down to see that his beloved favourite pencil had indeed snapped between his fingers. If he was mad before, he was furious now. His eyes shone with unbridled anger as he looked up and met Roxas' eyes defiantly, catching the last of his rant.

"-Have the right to die when and where I like!" Something inside Zexion snapped.

"Fine!"

In a blaze of completely blind fury he yanked the life support's power cord out of the wall socket.

A moment of shocked silence immediately settled over the room as both men stared blankly at the cord in Zexion's hand and then at each other. Coincidentally, that moment was all that it took for Roxas' now unsupported organs to realise the gravity of the situation and adhere to the new work schedule they had been handed. Putting it simply, Roxas died very quickly. His arms sunk limply as his head thumped back against the pillow - eyes completely devoid of the arrogance that had been shining moments before.

Zexion swore. Loudly. As if it would make all the difference in the world he jammed the cord back into the socket, looking to Roxas expectantly as if he would suddenly sit back up and resume shouting. As his hopes quickly faded he leapt across to the door and slammed it shut. He leant against it heavily and tried very hard to calm his breathing. Unfortunately this only made him realize he was in an extreme case of panic, making his breathing do the exact opposite of what he had wanted.

He had just _killed_ Roxas Cain. THE Roxas Cain. Killed him! Right there! Unmoving corpse right there on the bed. The richest and most popular young man in all of Pleasantview, Dead. Leading cause; Zexion.

He did not remember sliding to the floor, yet there he was, cuddling his knees to his chest and whimpering softly. His life was officially over. His aspirations of gaining any sort of improvement in his life completely null and void - and he would most likely spend the rest of his life in prison to boot. He would be the first to admit that he didn't have much of a life, but he adored it compared to what had just happened. He. Had. Just. Killed. Roxas. Cain.

Just then, the very last thing Zexion wanted to happen happened. His back jarred as someone tried to open the door.

The sound of mumbling reached his ears as the door was then knocked on. "Green? Is everything okay in there?" Zexion's breath caught. SHIT.

His mind roared in a surge of action as he quickly stood up, spun around and opened the door, putting on his best fake doctor smile in the process. His eyes met those of Xemnas. The Chief resident himself. Great! As if this could get any better!

"Everything is fine sir," Zexion hurriedly assured, completely ignoring the small voice that was reminding him how flustered he had been in his presence mere minutes earlier, "I was just uh .. sitting. On the ground. For no reason. Mr Roxas is quite fine." He gestured wildly over his shoulder as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. He hoped to any and every god out there that Roxas' rather un-living state would be taken as just an un-awake state.

The gods in question must have been feeling rather generous, as Xemnas simply glanced over Zexion's shoulder and nodded vaguely. "Use a chair next time" he stated matter of factly as he turned and glided royally down the corridor.

Zexion kept his giant smile very visible on his face until he had succeeded in very veeeery carefully shutting the door, before letting his face drop and spinning around to look at Roxas. It seemed ironic that the mistake of his most esteemed idol had just saved his life. Momentarily, at least. While the technology at this hospital was much less than sub-par, the doctors were unfortunately brilliant. It would take them no time at all to decipher Roxas' cause of death. Then all hell would break lose. Zexion intended to be far far away when that happened.

His mind worked quickly as he tried to approach the situation in a logical manner. He was due to leave first thing in the morning, thus he had until that time before the next person came in to continue monitoring Roxas' condition. When they discovered him not breathing, they would very likely hit the emergency button and all efforts would go into trying to resuscitate him, clearly presuming this had only just happened. In the ensuing madness someone would check the chart, now resting haphazardly on the floor.

What were his options? He could pretend Roxas was perfectly healthy upon his leaving - though this would make him look instantly murderous once they discovered his true time of death. Perhaps not. He could possibly report that Roxas had ... sort of... what could he write? That he had died of natural causes in his sleep? Maybe. They would expect some sort of expert commotion of the sorts he had imagined if that had been the case, and not just a forgotten-to-hand-in-report. Both options left him seeming irrevocably guilty.

In a vain attempt to curtail suspicion, Zexion scooped up the report and quickly scribbled "Gone to get donuts - be back in ten!" and left it very carefully on the bedside table, placing the pen ever so carefully in what he assumed was a natural position.

He scanned the room and rushed back to Roxas to close his eyelids. Stupid jerk. Zexion resisted the temptation to hit the dead guy for landing him in such a distressing mess. He settled on just sticking his tongue out. Good riddance.

He swept out of the room, being very careful to shut the door non-suspiciously behind him. He walked at a very carefully measured pace down the sterilised smelling corridor to the elevator. The whole situation felt unreal, as if the safety walls of his life had up and vanished, leaving him completely exposed and utterly flustered. To think that being ignored had seemed like the most important thing in the world just a little while ago, and now he sought it desperately. If no-one stopped him he could walk straight out the front door. But what next? No, he would sort that out when he got there. For now he just needed to get out, he would save the fleeing for his life till after.

Luck must have been on his side for once. He encountered not a single soul down the elevator ride, and after casually peeking around the corner he found the receptionist had gone as well. The double sliding door exit was fully in sight now, the night sky seeming to call out to him. His heart was pounding wildly as Zexion walked briskly across the lobby. Just a little more-

"Zexion."

Panic bursting through his chest, Zexion turned around slowly. He smiled nervously, expecting the world to collapse around him as the tall, wide shouldered doctor from inside the elevator earlier approached him slowly. He scanned his face vainly hoping for any sign of his impending doom, yet apparently this doctor had taken stoic lessons. The thick jawed doctor, brown hair pointing up menacingly, faced him squarely and extended his hand.

"I've read your thesis on the other side of hallucinations. It was utterly fascinating."

It took Zexion a slow moment to realise the thick doctor was in fact smiling at him and intended to shake his hand. At the same moment he realised the deep falsetto voice had not been incriminating him of murder, but had been showering him with praise. Relief engulfed him completely. Smiling eagerly Zexion shook the doctor's hand, completely unphased by just how strong his grip was.

"And you are?"

"Lexaeus Stonewall. It's truly a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine." It truly was. Not only was he not being done for murder, someone actually appreciated his work. And shook his hand. And _wanted_ to meet him. It was thrilling! "Where did you find my thesis?"

"Xemnas gave me a copy when I asked about it," he explained deeply, "He thinks quite highly of you."

Zexion mentally missed a step.

"Really?"

Lexaeus nodded confirmation. Zexion felt giddy inside. _Xemnas _liked his work? The small bubble of pride popped instantly when he remembered Xemnas would probably lose all respect for him once he discovered he had just killed their highest paying patient of all time. He couldn't help but wonder how brilliant this day would have turned out if he hadn't dabbled in accidental manslaughter. Lexaeus continued.

"Would you care for a drink?"

Zexion felt torn. Just how long had he spent every day of the week desperately wishing someone would ask him that? Here was his chance, and as much as he wanted to leap into it, he couldn't. He had lingered far too long already. Any moment now someone could be spontaneously checking on Roxas for a strictly forbidden signature. Clearly, fate was having an absolute ball with him tonight.

"I wish I could," Zexion said softly, giving his best apologetic smile, "But I really have to go."

The swishing of the double sliding doors sliding open sounded behind Zexion. Footsteps echoed off the cold hospital floor as a pair of tall men dashed past in a hurry. One was middle aged, his long blonde hair hanging far past his waist. The second was even older, with grey streaks in his black ponytail, hair just as long as the other's. They wore casual clothes, the first in some tight fitting sweater and the second in a Hawaiian shirt, causing the doctorly side of Zexion to awaken and want to inform them that visiting hours were well over. Instead, he ended up watching Lexaeus. The other man's eyes followed them for a moment, wide smile slowly draining away, before flicking back to Zexion with a distraught frown.

"It would seem I have to do the same. Some other time perhaps?"

The prospect made Zexion happy to no end. He nodded his agreement, hoping he didn't seem too eager.

"I'd like that."

The doors swished open again, this time allowing a man the same height and width as Lexaeus, except with a multitude of black braids hanging dangerously low down his back. Seeing him enter, Lexaeus nodded a friendly farewell to Zexion, smiling momentarily before striding over to the dark haired man, matching his long pace easily. Zexion couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched them round the corner. Then he remembered what his hurry had been for. He quickly turned to flee into the night.

He would never admit it, but he felt strangely alive as he endured the night's cold wind. Walking briskly to his dilapidated car, he pulled his phone from his pocket, dialling the vacant reception's number. He would leave a voice message explaining that his car had broken down and he wouldn't make it back to finish his shift, which shouldn't cause any problems as Roxas seemed very stable when he left. It might just work. Xemnas had thought Roxas was still alive and well when he had found Zexion earlier, so maybe he would genuinely believe it. It was a big gamble. An incredible gamble in fact, and it would be clearly unwise to rely on that lie alone to save his life. Hiding might draw suspicion, but he just did not feel safe going back home as he usually did; they'd know just where he was that way. But where to go?

Zexion thought through his options as he attempted to slam the rusty car door shut. To think that just an hour ago he had been his usual unappreciated self. Now he was a fugitive. At the very least, the adrenaline was giving him the most exciting night he'd likely ever have. He desperately hoped the excitement wasn't some type of insanity as he finally started his car, reversing out onto the road. Positive thinking, yes, that's what it was.

He grinned as an idea finally clicked into place. Sunshine and Rainbows. Mmhmm, that would do quite nicely. It was too late to call in casually, but desperate times surely excused such a thing. Zexion whistled as he adjusted the rear view mirror ever so slightly. He hoped Demyx was still awake.

* * *

In his hurry, Vexen stumbled as he climbed the lengthy staircase. The only thing that kept him balanced was his constant grip on the hand rail. He had long since given in to breathing as loud as he could manage. Next time he was taking the elevator, no matter what Xigbar said. Scientists were not cut out for this!

The hurry itself felt superficial, but then, he supposed it largely was. The death had already occurred, and no matter how soon they got there they could not undo it. Walking would be even worse though, it would make it seem like he truly wasn't committed to his goal, especially in the presence of one of the others. Xigbar didn't have to run so fast though! It was a hospital! Did he know how many _floors _hospitals had? Had the man not been a constant flight ahead of him Vexen would have dragged him to a stop and given him a piece of his mind. With a scowl, he settled for mentally muttering to himself, as physically doing so would have interrupted his ragged but still essential breathing. If only Xemnas had taught him that nifty trick of his. Why, it was fascinating enough for study on its own merits, let alone the immense usefulness it proposed.

Reaching a floor landing, Vexen doubled over, gulping down as much air as he could. Each breath felt like fire to his lungs, and he wasn't certain whether his legs would take him much further. Curse Xigbar and his blasted stairs! Lifting his head vaguely his breathing stopped. Floor Thirteen. They had made it. About time!

After another indulgent minute of catch up breathing, Vexen made his way into the meeting room, head held high and gaunt face drawn into a thin, expressionless frown, completely oblivious to his failed attempt at taking the stairs. It was a strangely bare room really, completely windowless and undecorated save for the white table in the centre, surrounded by thirteen undecorated plain sitting chairs. Too many chairs for a certainty, they never even filled half that number, yet he always had the impression that they should be taller somehow. Three chairs were already occupied, making Vexen the fourth to arrive. Xigbar was there, of course, the manic fool that he was, lounging around with one leg draped over the arm of his chair. Xaldin and Lexaeus were there too; both wide shouldered and thick bodied, the former with his unsanitary tassel of black braids, the latter with his short and slightly curled brown hair. Vexen bet they didn't have to take the stairs!

With an indignant sniff, Vexen took a seat not at all near any of them. Almost immediately the door reopened, stiffly proclaiming the entry of Xemnas himself. Everyone sat a little straighter as he sat down, waterfall of white hair showering over his shoulders. No-one needed to be reminded why they were there, or be told what had happened. They all knew the threat it posed and just what was on the line here. As such, they all looked wordlessly to Xemnas, awaiting his instruction, drinking in the silence. Xemnas pursed his lips in thought before speaking slowly, deliberately picking out each word.

"The situation can be … salvaged. He was killed by one of our own."

The tension in the room quickly dissipated. Everyone sat further back in their chairs, clearly relieved. Vexen let go of a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, quickly revising just what that meant. Xemnas continued.

"It can be salvaged, but we must keep a tighter grip on the situation. This cannot be allowed to happen again." He turned his head sharply, looking straight at Lexaeus, who flinched ever so slightly. "Lexaeus, keep a close eye on your new 'friend'. He cannot be allowed to get too far away."

Lexaeus' mouth tightened into what was unmistakably a disgruntled frown, yet he nodded confirmation – he would do it. Xemnas had that effect on people; they all knew the price of disobedience.

"Xigbar, Xaldin, continue your search. The others must be found as soon as possible." They nodded together, neither surprised at this order. They had been at it for quite a while, yet with limited success so far. It would gradually get easier from here on in though, Vexen admitted, now that things were in motion, whether they were the ones who initiated it or not.

Vexen's train of thought froze as Xemnas next looked to him.

"Vexen, I need you to recalculate the time between this death and the previous. We need to know when to make our next move."

Vexen digested this quickly. Yes, it could be done. But …

He cleared his throat. Quietly, yet every head in the room swivelled around to stare at him. Xemnas' expression never changed.

"It can be done, Superior, yet the funds it would require … well, it would be immense to say the least-"

Suddenly, Vexen was on his feet, his chair far behind him against the wall. He did not remember standing up, yet here he was, with Xemnas curiously standing before him.

Vexen gasped as a numb sensation suddenly ripped into his chest, driving a sudden chill across his torso. He craned his head down with difficulty. Some type of long blade was protruding out of his chest, connected in some way he couldn't quite see to Xemnas' hand. It was no mere blade; it seemed to be a phosphorous substance, glowing a whitish grey that was so bright it hurt to look at. It was glowing, yet somehow light seemed to dim around it, as if everything it came into contact with slowed to a standstill. It was a highly unpleasant thing to have reaching into one's innards.

With a sudden shock, Vexen's mind registered what had just happened. He had just been _stabbed._ He assumed he must be experiencing an adrenaline rush of some sort - there was no pain, only increasingly physical numbness. Was Xemnas killing him? No, Surely not. Xemnas _needed_ him. Didn't he?

His first attempt at words ended up a coughing splutter, but he managed to wheeze out the words on his second attempt.

"The ... The order…" His chest felt too tight to say anything else. Breathing itself was a struggle. Xemnas grinned, a cold smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Worry not, this is merely a demonstration. Note it well, _Vexen_."

Vexen's sight was clouding over, as if the world was fading into fog. This was most peculiar. He could recall nothing that produced such a vivid reaction to a flesh wound. He tried to move, yet he found his entire body rigid, twitching painfully wherever he attempted movement. His jaw hung open. The world was fogging over.

With a jolt, the numbness left him. Vexen doubled over in a rush of sudden muscle spasms, gasping for air and clutching at his throat wildly. He ran his hands over his coat desperately, trying to find the wound. It was not there. It was as if it had never happened at all. Only Vexen's painful gasps for air proved otherwise.

"You will not question my orders. You will receive all you require to complete your mission as long as you do as you are told. Follow my orders to the letter, or your next experience will be much more severe. Is this understood?"

Vexen nodded quicker than he would have liked, yet he nodded all the same. That was not an experience he wished to repeat. Let the fool think he was his lap dog. A man in comfort made more mistakes around those he thought he could trust. Then right when he least expected it, Vexen would strike, over powering him. Somehow. He would have to research the process further, but there was certain to be a way around the Order. There must!

"Now that the process has been started," Xemnas was addressing them all now, "Certain abilities will start returning to you. Some have found this already. Now, go. You are dismissed." Then he was gone.

Vexen remained huddled on the floor long after the others left, simply staring at the floor as his mind worked furiously. Despite his initial reaction, he now doubted there was anyway to remove Xemnas from the equation without everything collapsing in turmoil around him. Xemnas … was essential. It was undoubtedly true. He hated that conclusion, yet he knew it to be true. His orders would be followed and the world would weep. Perhaps the only way to survive was to stick as close to him as possible. A surprising change of plan perhaps, yet it was one that ensured survival. Vexen very much wanted to stay alive.

Before long he noticed a small twinkling on the floor before him. Refocusing his eyes, he touched it gently with a fingertip. It was cold. Ice cold.

Vexen smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Axel fled.

He fled like he had been the whole night; turning down any street he came across, running in any direction available to him. He would have to stop again soon. He knew it, and he hated it. He didn't want to stay in any one place longer than absolutely need be, his fear of discovery was too great.

Legs dropping like molten lead, Axel's foot caught on broken pavement, pulling him to the ground in an instant. Breathing heavily, he pushed himself back up slowly. He was in the suburbs now at least, perhaps he could spare a short rest. There was a van parked on the side of the street, just to his right. Not the best of cover, he admitted, yet under the circumstances it would have to do. His legs felt like fire.

The thought of fire brought a tired groan from Axel, leaning back with a loud thump against the cold metal exterior. He slid to his knees, the thoughts returning unbidden.

The building had been empty, he had known that from the very start, yet it changed nothing about what had happened there. He remembered it like it had only happened moments ago, seconds even. His companion ... no, his former companion had changed everything. Axel did not know why. They had grown up together, and had always been the closest of friends. Yet that had all changed two weeks ago when they moved here, to Pleasantview. None of it made any sense, but it had happened nonetheless, and Axel had ended up in the building. He could still hear his friend's voice.

"Power, Axel, Power! Do you not feel it? Do you not yearn for it? It's there, right inside you, waiting for you to reach out and grab it," his friend had spieled, the night's wind from the window making his blue hair flow unnaturally. "We can do this together, you and I, just like old times."

"No," Axel had cried, "I won't! I don't want this-"

Before he could even react he had been thrown to ground, the air knocked out of his lungs completely. Struggling to breathe, Axel tried to crawl backwards. The best friend he had ever known followed.

"Axel," his voice had been unnaturally calm, lacking any hint of emotion, "There are others. Like us. You will join me, Axel, or you will die here."

"Never!"

Next was the part that scared Axel the most. It terrified him completely. The dark and empty building lit up as a spiked monstrosity of a weapon leaped into existence, his friend swinging it at him with no emotion on his face whatsoever. Axel did not remember how he did it, but somehow a similarly spiked wheel had found its way into his hand, just in time to save him from the crushing blow. He had screamed as the weapons collided. He screamed, and the building around them erupted into flame.

Laughter echoed over the roar of the fire, yet everywhere he looked his friend was nowhere to be seen. Shielding his face from the searing heat, Axel had peered out the glassless window. He was on the second floor, yet as he turned away his eyes caught on a blonde haired man outside, staring directly up at him. His breathe caught, causing Axel to burst into a painful coughing fit, fleeing down the stairs as fast as he could. Once outside on the grass he looked back. The burning shell of a building lit up the night around him with a fiery glow, searing the air all around him. His eyes found the window he had been looking out and Axel froze. Inside the window was the man with blonde hair, looking left and right frantically. At the last moment he met Axel's eyes, right before the floor above him collapsed, covering the window with a screen of debris and fire.

Before Axel even had the chance to yell a voice had whispered, right in his ear.

"Well done."

With a manic scream he had fled; from his former friend, from the blonde man who had followed him, from the inferno he had somehow caused. That had been last night. A whole day had passed, yet Axel could still feel the tight lump of fear in his throat, even as he tapped his hand unconsciously against the rusted van. He understood none of what had happened, yet he knew with every ounce of his being that he was frightened, completely scared out of his wits that his friend would find him again.

Yet, despite his fear, Axel couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the blonde haired man. Had he been trying to save him? Perhaps he had been, but that only made the knot of guilt inside him tighten. Of course, it was possible that he had in fact made it out alive. Seriously injured perhaps, but he _could _have survived. A dim possibility, but far better than knowing that he had killed a man, and a man who looked incredibly familiar at that.

The van behind him yelped as Axel's head thudded back against it in thought. Was that a voice? No, probably just squeaking joints. Even so, Axel surmised it was about time to get going again. As he got to his feet he stared up at the night sky. The vast darkness was comforting, with the pinpricks of light shining down motionlessly. No matter how far he had run, they hadn't changed at all. Blonde hair ...

The wind whistled past him, making Axel shiver at the night's touch. It was entirely possible that Roxas had survived. Whether he had or not, surely there would be news of it, in the newspapers perhaps, or at the hospital. Finding out whether he had even survived would surely be the least Axel could do.

Even as Axel ran against the freezing cold wind, he began to sweat, mind reeling in a new wave of fear. How had he known the man's name?

* * *

"This is Sky to Land. Sky to Land, do you copy?"

Silence answered him. He tried whispering a little louder.

"This is Sky to Land-"

"Sora, those names are utterly ridiculous. Do we have to use them?" The static sounding voice spoke back. He had spent all night coming up with those names. Oh well.

"Kairi? Where's Riku?"

"He went to bed. He said it was boring."

"What? Oh come on! You believe me, don't you Kairi?"

"... Riku believes you more than I do, Sora."

"But I'm being serious! I'm totally freaked out here. When have I ever lied to you?"

"Half an hour ago, about the zombies."

"...Okay, that _might _not have been true, but this time I mean it!" Sora shifted around nervously in the otherwise empty van. He really did mean it this time. Something kept banging on the side of the van, yet when he had looked there was nothing there. He may or may not have squealed like a little girl the last time it happened, but Kairi most certainly did not have to know that bit. "Please Kairi?"

Kairi grunted in annoyance. "Fine, Sora, I'll come get you. But next time you want to spy on the neighbours do it on a night I'm not home."

"Thank you Kairi! You're the best!"

"Yeah yeah." The static cut out and Sora beamed out the van's window expectantly, waiting patiently in the darkness. The last time the banging sound had reached his ears Sora had had the brilliant idea of turning off the interior lights, so as to not be seen by whatever was out there. What he hadn't counted was just how much scarier it was sitting alone in a van at night with no lights on. That's when he had given up.

He smiled happily at the sight of a torchlight making its way across the front lawn, quickly exiting the vehicle and running back across the road to meet Kairi - one of his best friends and currently his flatmate. Matching him in height, she brushed a strand of her red hair out of her eyes as she shone the light across the van.

"As you can see, Sora, there's nothing there."

Sora crossed his arms, frowning seriously at her. "You really don't believe me, do you?"

Smiling at him mock sweetly, Kairi poked him sharply in the chest with the torch, plunging the night into darkness once more. "Not one bit." With that, she was walking back up the path. After a short second of frowning, Sora hurried after her. Being left alone outside at night was most definitely not on his To Do list. It was cold, and scary, and invisible things attacked your van. Clearly it was not where Soras were meant to be.

Once back inside he sighed a breath of relief, causing Kairi to shoot him a pitying look before wordlessly returning to her room. They had moved in, along with their mutual friend Riku, just a little over a month ago, but Sora still didn't trust the neighbourhood. There was this creepy old guy with an eye patch who wandered around late at night with no shirt on, and if that wasn't enough of an indication of a dodgy neighbourhood, Sora didn't know what was. True, that was the _only _sign, as there was amazingly next to no crime whatsoever, but he wasn't willing to take any chances. Kairi had told him he needed a hobby to keep his mind off his conspiracy theories, yet she had certainly not counted on him taking up spying on their neighbours as said hobby. Sora was _this _close to proving that eye patch man was actually a werewolf of some kind. All he needed now was proof.

Now that he was inside once more his excitement quickly faded, leaving Sora at a loss of what to do next. He watched the clock tick over midnight as he wandered to the kitchen, standing on the tiled floor and looking out the window in thought. He supposed it was getting late, yet being a jobless university student right in the middle of a lengthy period of holidays left him with nothing to actually wake up for in the mornings. He almost wished classes would start up again, just to give him something to do during the day. Almost.

It took him a moment to realise that the small enclosed back yard was currently host to a Riku, lying face up on the grass, staring up at the sky in the baggy grey shirt and pants he used as pyjamas. Peeking through the kitchen blinds, Sora could clearly make out the silver hair hanging down around his shoulders, with green eyes staring out of his pointed face. With a grand total of zero things to do at the moment, Sora carefully slid open the squeaking sliding door and joined him outside, creeping up just to Riku's left. Without even looking up, Riku spoke.

"Had enough spying for one night, Sora?"

Sora made a face in reply. "I thought you went to bed."

Riku shrugged, not taking his eyes from their heaven-ward gaze.

"I couldn't sleep."

His eyes following Riku's, Sora stared up at the sky. It really was beautiful, doming over head at some phenomenal distance above.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Sora spoke softly. He didn't hear Riku reply, but he didn't mind so much, taking in every last sparkle the sky had to offer. The moon itself was a huge glowing orb, a full circle of light in the dark sky around it. It was all so peaceful. Sora couldn't help but feel foolish for being scared out of his wits just moments before. Somehow, it seemed like nothing could go wrong under something as vast as the night sky.

Not wanting to break the silence, Sora's mind gently drifted to what he did best when he had absolutely nothing to do; he mused. First up on his musing list was what had been on his mind ever since he took a class in philosophy last semester. At first he had been rather unimpressed with the class as a whole, but after he had been forced to sit down revise for the exams by none other than Riku himself, Sora had been fascinated with it. He had to admit, it offered a lot more conversation points than his failed attempt at late night neighbourhood spying did.

"Hey, Riku?"

"Yeah?"

Just how would he phrase this? It was a little unordinary, he was sure, but wanted to voice his thoughts to someone at the very least.

"I've been having these weird thoughts lately..." Riku shuffled in the grass idly as Sora tried to put his thoughts into words, "like ... is any of this for real ... or not?" A short moment of silence followed Sora's question.

He was genuinely offended when Riku proceeded to burst into laughter.

"Heey, I was being serious."

"Oh come on, Sora. Since when are you ever serious?"

Crossing his arms, Sora shot Riku his very best angry face. It was more of a pout, to be fair, but Sora knew for a fact that his pouts could melt steel when they were directed at Riku. They weren't anywhere near as effective on Kairi, but he had Riku under his thumb when it came to facial expressions.

As expected, Riku's laughter died down to a bemused chuckle at the sight of Sora's face.

"Okay. Sorry Sora. What's up?"

With a grunt, Sora looked back up at the sky above, eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"I'll get back to you once I remember."

Riku snorted in laughter once more before falling quiet. He was not silent for long however, soon speaking up once more.

"Actually, Sora. There's something I've been thinking over too."

"Oh? What's that?"

Before Riku could answer, a tapping noise sounded from the window. Sora and Riku both looked up to see Kairi in her dressing gown, motioning for them to come inside and pointing up at the sky. True enough, when Sora glanced upwards there was a rather dark and menacing looking cloud hanging over head. How had he not noticed it before? He could've sworn the sky had been clear.

"It looks like your side quest might just have to wait Riku."

Riku smiled back at him humourlessly as they got to their feet. Of course, he and Riku were the gamers of the trio; it was something Sora could share just with Riku alone. Kairi was more of an internet queen, buzzing around art sites and starting up multi-tiered conversations left right and center. She claimed not to be any good at art herself, but Sora had seen her work and it was actually pretty darn good. Not that he could ever tell her that, since it was mostly of the yaoi variety, and it was probably safer just to avoid that topic altogether. He had printed out a few of her pictures on the side though, truthfully, because it was yaoi, and good yaoi at that.

As Kairi shut the door behind them she smiled at Sora.

"I found a website you might like. It's _filled_ with crazy conspiracy stuff."

"Oh?" Sora perked up.

Riku glanced at Sora briefly before disappearing to his bedroom, completely unnoticed as Sora followed Kairi off to hers, chattering excitedly about possible werewolf sightings around Pleasantview. Hours later, when Sora would peek into Riku's room to see if he was awake, Riku would be nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Demyx Brine was not expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen on his normal Monday evening. He sat, as he usually did, in his lounge, talking to strangers in other countries as he blasted them out of existence with his much practiced video game habits. Of course, this often landed Demyx in more virtual turmoil than even his faulty connection would warrant. He wasn't one for rules, nor did he find any perverse pleasure in simply fighting coded enemies, leaving him with the even more satisfying task of being completely non-serious and goofing off in any and every way possible. Sadly, few of the other players found his attempts to throw miscellaneous household items at them while dancing the Macarena even in the least bit amusing, leaving Demyx a very much avoided player in the rings of the ill-humoured teenage fanbases.

On this particular evening, Demyx was dropping his controller with disgust and rising from his well indented couch, having been banned from yet another server for the evening. Musing over how people took zombies far too seriously for their own good he flicked over to normal television for a brief moment, hovering indecisively between sitting back down and leaving the room. Apparently the news channel greatly wanted to remind him about the unsolved murder of Xion Roberson, found in her home with no clear cause of death nearly two weeks ago, asking him to call the hotline if he had any information about her mysterious death. Snorting dismissively, Demyx dropped the remote next to the controller and left the room.

Noting the late hour, he padded softly over the kitchen tiles to raid the cupboards of anything and everything sugary he could find. He shortly padded back with the fruits of his labour - a single juice box. He was vaguely disappointed with the distinct lack of anything chocolate flavoured as he plonked himself haphazardly down onto his computer chair, spinning around to face it lazily. He mused over writing a lengthy vent about this recent down turn of events on his online journal, leaving him to check back every few minutes just in case someone bothered to write half a sentence in reply. Oh yes, a busy night lay ahead of Demyx, he could already tell.

His intensely important schedule was, however, interrupted by a sudden ringing sound echoing down the hallway. Demyx glanced up at the fish shaped clock on the wall as he sipped the rest of his juice box dry. A visitor at 11:17pm. He wasn't about to lie, a visitor at anytime of the day was a rather incredible turn of events in the household of Demyx Brine. Unless, of course, it was a tipsy Xigbar inquiring as to whether Demyx had any spare alcohol again. Neighbours, oh how he could do without them.

The person he found when he tugged his heavy front door open was not the drunken surfer however. He instead found himself blinking down at one of the last people he had expected to turn up at his home unannounced; Zexion Green. Zexion had been a close friend of his in college a few years back, before they had each gone off in their separate career directions on opposite sides of town from each other. He looked just the same as ever, hardly having changed at all. His well tailored hair hung down sharply before his face, purple eyes reflecting the colour of the night sky. The most notable change would of course be the fact that he was wearing a long doctor's coat - shining white, thankfully. Demyx hated blood.

After revelling in the sight of his surprise guest Demyx realised this was quite possibly the right time to voice some sort of greeting. He cleared his throat softly and lowered the empty juice box from his lips.

"Uh, Hey there, Zexion?" Demyx's eyebrow shot up of its own will to accompany the pseudo-question.

"Yeah! I, uh ... Hi! Demyx."

The short guy was a strange sight indeed, bobbing up and down on his heels excitedly and smiling up at Demyx. He had dark rings under his eyes, Demyx noted, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Being a doctor must really been more tiring work than television dramas made it out to be. Yet ... here? In the middle of the night? It was an effort to dismiss the thought that he may have brought chocolate with him.

"Uh, whatcha doin' here? I didn't know you were coming." Demyx ran through his memory for a brief moment, just in case he _had _actually known but had then forgotten, as usual. "I didn't miss an email or something did I?" he asked, unconsciously glancing down the hallway at his computer, as if all its secrets could be deciphered in a mere glance.

"Oh! I um ... Nope! Didn't email. I just thought I'd drop by," Zexion answered, with all too much enthusiasm, still rocking backwards and forwards on his heels and smiling eagerly. He frowned for a moment and shook his head.

"No, that wasn't it..."

Leaving it at that, he continued smiling at Demyx hopefully. Demyx fought the urge to raise his eyebrow yet again.

"Uh ... You okay Zex?"

The smiling Zexion nodded in rapid succession.

"Yes yes! Caffeine pills! You live aaages away, I hope you know. " Then he sneezed.

By his own judgement, Demyx was about as far from a doctor as one could get, yet he made a mental decision never to dispose of any caffeine he had in his possession; this was quite simply the most ridiculous thing he had ever seen. The smart and witty Zexion Green, turning up on his doorstep for the first time in years, twittering like some sort of psychotic land mammal. He had half a mind to just shut the door there and then, dismissing this whole encounter as some sort of sugar induced hallucination. It was tempting, _very_ tempting, but the thought of letting Zexion drive anywhere else in such a state was even scarier than the thought of letting him come inside.

Apparently, he didn't have much choice in the matter. Demyx returned Zexion's smile suspiciously and gestured vaguely down the hall.

"Uh ... Wanna come in?" _Please say no_.

"Sure!"

_Drat_.

Demyx was left holding the door open as Zexion wobbled around the doorway, looking ready to collapse through the wall with every step. Rolling his eyes, Demyx stared out the doorway at the night sky. It sure was a beautiful night, even if it was as cold as anything. Shivering through his cotton pyjamas, Demyx went to shut the door, stopping abruptly as he caught sight of the street. There were two unfamiliar cars outside his house, a dilapidated old brown thing, and a new looking white van. He recognised the latter as Zexion's, yet where had the former come from? It would have escaped his notice completely if the interior lights hadn't turned off the exact moment Demyx had looked at it.

"Zexion, you didn't bring company did you?"

Zexion turned in mid step, eyes wide as tea cups.

"Nope!"

Nodding happily, Zexion fell against the wall as he turned back around, muttering a surprised "Woooah" as he righted himself. Shaking his head in disbelief, Demyx shut the front door firmly behind him. As an afterthought he leaned over and carefully peered through the glass panes of his door frame. The lights in the van were still turned off; it didn't look like anyone was inside. Perhaps he had just imagined it. He watched for just a little while longer, just in case, though nothing else out in the night seemed to want to attract his attention. You could never be too careful these days.

Quickly making off down the hallway, Demyx's mind returned to the problem of his surprise guest. In his experience, people who turned up at people's houses in the middle of the night were either looking for a party or a place to hide, and Zexion had never been one for parties. He opened his mouth to demand just what Zexion doing here, caffeine pills and all, yet upon entering his lounge he found the white cloaked form of Zexion lying peacefully on his couch, eyes shut and a placid grin on his face. Just how did anyone fall asleep that fast?

Demyx raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. It would just have to wait till morning, he supposed, and if Zexion was still here then he would have a lot to answer for. Glancing forlornly over at his computer Demyx wished he had one anywhere else but in the lounge at this moment. He very much did not want to wake anyone up who may or may not be able to go back to sleep due to a caffeine rush. Clicking his fingers to a beat only he could hear, Demyx made his way to his bedroom, idly trying to remember the last time he had gone to bed so early.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Next Life - Chapter Three**

Zexion awoke slowly at first, then much faster once he realised he wasn't in his own bed like he thought. He barely managed to squint his eyes open, peering around the room with his blurred vision. It appeared he had slept on a couch, in a lounge, in a room he absolutely did not recognise. The couch was soft though, _very _soft. He opted to retreat, closing his eyes again gratefully and lying back down. His eyes felt too grainy to open again, so he settled for trying to remember how he had gotten here mentally, wherever he was indeed.

Slowly, Zexion pieced together a recollection of events. It was a painfully fruitless process until, in a rush, he remembered Roxas Cain and his flight from the hospital. Squeezing his eyes even tighter shut he groaned, for all the world wishing he had woken up to any other day but this one. Just what on earth was he supposed to do now? They would have checked on Roxas by this time, and Zexion's doom would be thus complete. The rush he had felt when fleeing the hospital was gone now. Right here, half awake in his slept-in work clothes with eyes that he could not open, Zexion knew that running was useless. They would find him, and it would all be over.

Little by little, he willed his eyes back to a narrow squint, peering up at the wall. A very distinctive fish shaped clock peered back at him, and Zexion remembered the second half of his night. He was in Demyx Brine's house, asleep on his couch, and most certainly feeling the after effects of whatever he had consumed on the way there. Well, it would take them a while to find him here in any case, he might as well enjoy as much of the day as he could.

Once he could safely open his eyes all the way with the least amount of groggy head spinning he could manage, Zexion slowly got to his feet, testing his balance as he went. He righted his clothes, twisting them around from the angles they had contorted into during his sleep, and ran his hands through his hair a few times. He probably looked awful. He didn't exactly want Demyx to see him looking so dreadful after such a long time, but then again Demyx had most likely encountered him last night at some point, judging by the fact that he was indeed inside his house. At least, he hoped he had. He wasn't exactly eager to add breaking and entering to his Monday Night's Spontaneous Crime list. The first step would have to be finding Demyx, and making sure he was in fact supposed to be here.

As it so happened, Demyx was standing shirtless in his kitchen with a mouth full of animal crackers. Upon hearing Zexion enter the room Demyx turned, with a cross look on his face at first, but quickly softening after meeting Zexion's eyes, turning his face into the goofy smile Zexion remembered so well. Without a pause Demyx waved him over happily, clearly torn between wanting to talk and still having a mouth full of animal shaped sugar. Apparently the speaking clause won the argument.

"Ornich! Onshun?" Demyx managed to gurgle out between his half chewed mouthful, offering the packet of the offending food out to him. There had been a time when Zexion was able to proudly understand anything and everything Demyx tried to say in such situations, being able to decipher every word without fail, yet apparently those days were long gone, and Zexion was left with a very confused look on his face.

"...um?"

Demyx managed to swallow in a rush, walking over and handing the box of sugary goodness to the newly awakened Zexion.

"Found them in the back," he chirped happily, "I'll be in the bathroom."

And thus, Zexion was left alone with a half eaten box of animal crackers in the kitchen of Demyx Brine. At the very least, he now knew that he was indeed allowed to be here, knocking his list of illegal activities back down to just murder. Glancing down at the brightly coloured animals in his hand, Zexion found that he was in fact surprisingly hungry, yet he was most definitely not about to stoop to eating second rate sugar products in the morning, not even at a time like this. His doctorly instincts just would not allow it. Instead, he rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, looking for anything and everything that could be used to summon up a more nutritional breakfast.

Of course, being in the house of Demyx Brine made these efforts completely redundant, doctorly instincts be damned, and he ended up with a bowl of bright pink cereal drowned in chocolate milk. He knew he shouldn't complain at the expense of another person's hospitality, but hell, it was a surprise Demyx still had teeth at all! With any luck he could just slip out quietly and ...

And what? No matter which angle he observed the situation from, there was no escape from where he had landed himself. Zexion Green was no fugitive, he was not about to flee on a spontaneous international merry go round to escape capture. Had he not known he had done it, he would not have believed that he had done anything at all. His record was pristine; he had never broken the law in his life. And now this?

Even with the complete lack of proper food, Zexion had to admit it was comforting being with a friend, if an old one. He did not think he could have handled such a dilemma at his own apartment. Too much there reminded him of his super imposed work life - it was practically all he did after all. Besides, it was ... nice. Yes, it was nice being around someone who wasn't another doctor or patient. Goodness knows, he might even have a conversation about something that wasn't medical for once. He almost laughed bitterly at that thought. Just how long had it been since he had had fun?

Demyx though, Demyx was fun. He remembered that much clearly. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to stay a while, if Demyx didn't mind having a fleeing murderer in his house and all. That way his last days as a free man might be ones he could fondly remember from his dank prison cell. If he was caught early he could always resort to recalling their previous years in college. He could remember those times clearly too. Demyx on the beach, dropping his ice cream in the sand with a yelp. Demyx in the library, trying to talk in sign language without laughing. Demyx in his black coat, playing on his sitar... sitar ... sitar?

Wait, what? Since when did Demyx play the sitar? Speaking of which, when had Demyx ever worn a black coat? Demyx hadn't worn anything such thing in all the time Zexion had known him, he was sure of it. But he had thought it? Great. Now the stress of being a fugitive was driving him insane. Any second now he was probably going to-

A yell echoed from down the hallway. For a brief second Zexion stared, spoon in hand, in the direction of the intruding noise. The next, he was moving as fast as he could down the winding and well decorated hallways, searching for Demyx. Locating the only room with light shining behind the door, Zexion grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.

Zexion stared at Demyx. Demyx stared back. From inside the bathtub. Completely one hundred percent naked. Naked, and wet. A moment passed.

Blushing brighter than he ever had before Zexion slammed the door shut in his hurry to recover. His face was on fire. He slapped a hand over his eyes, wondering just how he could have just done such a thing. He felt a small relief when laughter chimed on the other side of the door.

"What'd you want Zexion?"

Demyx still sounded as happy as ever, clearly more amused than anything else. Oh god, he'd managed to walk in on his only lifeline completely naked and he hadn't even been awake an hour yet. This was not going well, not at all.

"I was uh.. I thought I heard you scream." To Zexion's ears he sounded like a complete moron. If Demyx didn't kick him out after this it was a complete miracle.

"Well ... I guess I kinda did, huh?" Demyx answered slowly.

"Oh? Is everything uh ... okay in there?" Zexion asked, cheeks firing into a blush once more.

"Yeah Yeah, I'm good," Demyx said, his good humour returning to his tone. "Thanks, Zex."

"... for what?"

"For checking on me! I could've been drowning or something, you know?"

"I um ..." Drowning in the bathtub? Demyx's laughter chimed once more from beyond the doorway. Zexion took this as his queue to quickly slip away. Taking a deep breath he tried his absolute best to sneak back to the kitchen without making any noise whatsoever. To his relief, the floorboards decided to co-operate with him for once and not a single creak sounded the entire way. He finally breathed once again upon getting back to the tiled kitcheny haven.

Unsure of what one usually did after interrupting someone's bath, Zexion busied himself in taking in the decor of the kitchen, very much trying not to linger on the situation. It had changed since he'd last been here, though that had indeed been years ago. The linoleum floors were checkered in white squares, while the bench tops were the same dark blue that manifested in most of the house's attire. Velvet drapes, painted doors, carpets and couches all took on the same dark blue colour, giving the interior of the house the very odd appearance of being completely matching. It was a very well-to-do house, he had to admit, and in quite a safe area of the suburbs at that. Zexion felt a pang of guilt recalling that Demyx had inherited it all from his deceased parents years ago. Not that Zexion's parents were any more alive than Demyx's were, but it wasn't the kind of thought one brought up casually.

His train of thought completely imploded as the silence was torn apart. Zexion jumped, driving his hand into his coat pocket to silence his screaming phone. As flustered as ever before, he quickly pulled it out of his pocket, jabbing the answer button and putting the phone to his ear. In a painful cry he held it at arm's length when it rung again at full volume, making his ear ring in pain. He jabbed the button a few more times, yet the phone continued pouring out an endless and increasingly annoying classical tune at him. Great, another broken button. Just what he needed. In a vain attempt to quell the high pitched ringing Zexion clicked the speaker phone button on the side, clearly not expecting any results.

A moment of silence followed before a rich and clear voice wandered uncertainly out of the speaker.

"Doctor Green?"

The receptionist! The hospital was calling him. Had they found the body? Was he being reprimanded? His mind raced in an uncertain panic, summoning up the best reply he could think of.

"Yes."

"Ah, Doctor Green, there you are. I'm afraid I have some bad news." This was it. Everything was going to explode. Zexion couldn't help but notice Demyx walking back into the room, fully dressed and watching him curiously. Zexion felt like sinking into the floor and never returning. "I'm sorry to say it," the warm voice continued to say, "but it seems that Roxas Cain passed away in his sleep last night. I'm afraid there was nothing we could do."

Zexion stared incredulously at the phone for a very long moment.

"..._What?"_

"I'm sorry, Doctor Green. I know how hard it is when a patient slips away, but don't blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done."

Zexion blinked very slowly, still staring at the phone as if it might yell "Psyche" and erupt into flames. It gradually dawned on him just what this all meant. _They didn't think he did it. _They knew nothing! He. Was. Not. Going. To. Jail. His body trembled slightly as unnoticed tension released itself automatically, making Zexion feel like he had just been ripped out of some collapsed building and thrown freely up into the clouds. _He was free._ If Zexion was ever close to dancing, now would be that time.

Clearly his silence was taken for remorse, as Zexion felt Demyx's long fingered hand grip his shoulder lightly, murmuring a sincerely felt apology. It was absolutely the most ridiculous thing ever. Zexion fought off his urge to laugh and sing and dance and tried his best to look resigned. Demyx was smiling at him comfortingly. How had he never noticed how bright that smile was? It was like a lighthouse. A lighthouse with amazingly well kept hair. The most wonderful lighthouse ever.

The phone spoke again, making Zexion remember with a jolt that he was holding it, almost dropping it in the process.

"Doctor Green? Why don't you take the rest of the week off. Doctor Stonewall offered to cover for you once he heard the circumstances, but you only really had the one patient to begin with so he - Oh, I'm sorry! That was careless." Zexion had the very distinct impression of the receptionist biting her lip in worry of offending him.

"Don't uh," he paused to clear his throat. _Do not laugh. Do not laugh. _"Don't worry about it."

Clearly relieved, the receptionist's bubbly voice continued offering her condolences, saying how hard it must be to lose a patient he must have been so close to, only having the one patient and all. Zexion didn't trust himself to say anything at all at the moment, so he just let her speak, casually flicking his eyes over to watch Demyx bobbing his head in time with some music Zexion couldn't hear. He could never remember finding it this hard to not smile in his life.

He was brought back to the phone call when he heard the receptionists voice arch up in a question.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Doctor Green. I know it's not the right time to ask and all, but I was just wondering whether you'd still be coming to the masquerade ball this Friday. I don't think you've R.S.V.P'd yet?"

"N-"

"Yes! Yes, he will." Zexion shot Demyx a bewildered look. Demyx simply smiled back._ Oh boy..._

"Oh! How wonderful," the receptionist chirped, clearly pleased beyond all reason would imply, "And will you be bringing a guest? We have to assign the tables, you see. It's quite a lot of hassle for such a simple-"

"Yes, I will be coming with a guest." There was no way in hell Zexion was going to one of those things alone. If Demyx as getting him into this, then he was most certainly coming as well. He shot him a glance, indicating that he meant the guest to be him. Judging from the way Demyx's face lit up and how he quite avidly arm pumped, he had never been to one of the hospital's work functions. The last one had been like watching an elderly couple assemble a jigsaw puzzle, only on mute, and in slow motion.

"Wonderful!" the receptionist repeated, "Well then Doctor Green, I'll be looking forward to seeing you there. Have a pleasant week, and please accept my condolences once more," she offered sincerely as the phone fell silent.

Feeling for all the world like he'd just had sunlight injected directly into his veins, Zexion looked up at the ceiling with the widest smile he could remember having in years. He was off the hook. He had the week off. He wasn't doomed. And he was, for the moment, staying with the happiest person on the planet. Feeling very much like hugging him in pure unrestrained relief, Zexion wondered if he could pass it off as grief over his 'sudden loss.'

It turned out he could.

* * *

When Sora awoke the sun was streaming through the blinds of his small, poster covered bedroom. That was his favourite thing about summer; by the time you woke up the sun was already well into its arc through the sky. It _may_ have also had something to do with him waking up dangerously close to midday, but he was willing to over look that fact to back up his strongly biased love for the brightest season of them all. Oh yes, Sora adored summer. Longer days, shorter nights. What more could you want out of a season?

Conveniently enough for Sora's holiday sleep routine, midday was just about the time the mail was usually delivered, and so Sora cheerfully spent his waking moments stretching by the letterbox, letting the sunlight slowly curtail his need to yawn. As per usual, after several long moments of toe wriggling and cloud gazing, Sora looked down to spot the blond-haired mailman riding past, cargo pants pumping as he cycled onwards through the day. It felt odd categorising him as a mailman; it made him seem far older than he actually appeared, and he definitely appeared to be no older than Sora himself. Humming to himself as he emptied the letterbox of its newly acquired contents, Sora settled on calling him a mail-guy and leaving it at that. It seemed about as close to a conclusion as he was ever going to get on the issue – and it was an issue that plagued him rather often.

Looking up and down his still-new-feeling street, Sora couldn't help but admire how beautiful the day was. The sky was that perfect tint of light blue that made the thick clouds look a luscious white colour as they drifted lazily above the street of well taken care of gardens. Flowers poked up from hedges and thick trees lined either side of the road, forming a natural seeming canopy of unbroken green. He was quite sure he could hear the echoes of children playing gleefully down the street too. Perhaps it wasn't such a dodgy neighbourhood after all. There was no sign of Eyepatchman - that much was certain.

Upon the thought of the suspected werewolf something else caught Sora's attention. Across the street, parked rather perfectly between two of the road bordering trees, was Riku's van. Of course, that in itself was completely unordinary. He had parked it there himself to spy on the neighbours last night. What had caught his eye was the dark haired man inspecting the side of it. His hair was a spray of dark braids, hanging half way down his back and looking not the least bit sanitary. He was of rather a thick build, surely standing a head and shoulders above Sora himself, and wore a suit that spoke of business degrees and law firms. Worst of all, upon seeing Sora looking at him, he began walking in his direction. Sora's eyes narrowed of their own free will. Were the werewolves finally onto him, or was a third party involved?

"Pardon my asking, young man," the deep voiced man asked, as Sora but mentally noted how thick and angular his dark eyebrows were, "but are you familiar with the owner of this van?"

Sora blinked. They were after Riku? "Uh, why do you ask?"

Of course, even to Sora's ears his response dripped of knowing but not telling, but he wasn't overly concerned over how he was coming off to the strangely suited man. Compared to the baggy white shirt and black shorts Sora was wearing – and had indeed woken up in – the man practically looked royal. Royal, but scary.

Clearly an expert at picking up tones of voice and conversational cues, the tall man reorganized his attempt at furrowing out information.

"Ah, forgive my rudeness," he said, making a well practiced hand gesture that spoke of flowery introductions, "My name is Xaldin Gustav and I'm a law representative for the PLFA. We're on the search for a known arsonist in the area and he may have connections with this vehicle. "

The man spoke with such eloquence that Sora couldn't help but take him absolutely seriously. Running a hand through his spiked mess of hair, he tried his best to look thoughtful as he answered.

"An arsonist? Here?" Well, there went the safe neighbourhood facade. He had _known _it was dangerous, he always had. The laughing children were probably waiting to mug him on the way back inside. "I don't think I've heard anything about it."

"Ah, well, in that case," Serious McSeriousness answered deeply, pulling a business card from his coat pocket and holding it out to Sora, "Give me a call if you happen to come across anything suspicious. This man must be brought to justice."

"Uh, I sure will," Sora attempted to assure the man, despite the fact that he had no such intention whatsoever. He took the man's card, pretending to look at it politely before pocketing it with the vague hope that he'd stop talking and move on. A curt nod later, the man did just that, walking back to the other side of the road with a slow steady gait. Curiosity pricked at Sora. Just who was this man inspecting Riku's van, and just what did he really think he'd accomplish by standing around in the middle of pleasant looking street with next to no people walking down it? Was he just going to question each and every person who happened to come out and check their mail?

Whatever his true purpose was, Sora had no desire to spend any more time than necessary alone with him on an empty street. He walked quickly back across his front lawn and, on a whim, picked up the newspaper as he slinked back inside. Sure enough, there were two stories squeezed onto the front page; 'Ongoing Hunt for the Mysterious Sunday Night Arsonist' and, with an even bigger and more importantly sized picture, 'Sudden Death of Beloved Socialite Roxas Cain'. Apparently the man's story came thr- wait, Roxas Cain was dead? This was terrible news! He was just about to launch a singing career! _Had been_, Sora mentally corrected, _had been_ about to launch a singing career. This was really something.

Practically bursting with exciting news to discuss, Sora made a bee line for the kitchen. Unfortunately, Sora's sudden enthusiasm was effectively trampled upon reaching this destination.

"What do you mean Riku isn't here?"

The deliverer of such news simply shrugged in reply as she went about assembling a far too healthy looking sandwich.

"Just that. He's not here."

"But ..." Sora thought for a moment, tugging on a strand of brown hair as he did so, "But he has to be! His van is still parked outside."

Kairi shook her head at him, crimson hair swaying as she did so. "I don't know, Sora. He probably just went out."

"He wasn't here last night either. When I went to bed, I mean. He wasn't in his room."

Kairi wiggled her breadknife in the air at him, suspicious smile perfectly framed by her straight hair.

"Oh? And just what were _you_doing in _Riku's _room? Hmm? Late at night? All alone?"

Sora flinched, despite himself. He had, of course, had no such intentions whatsoever, but he couldn't stop the blush before it reached his face.

"Cut it out Kairi. I'm being serious."

Teeth bared, Kairi shot Sora a wide grin.

"Why so serious?"

Completely ignoring the very self amused laughter that followed, Sora slammed the newspaper and mail both on the bench before stalking off down the corridor without another word. She was utterly impossible! Never in a good mood when you felt like playing around, making jokes at his expense whenever he was trying to tell her something. He could not understand how Riku and him both had managed to obsess over her so completely when they were younger**.** He was quite glad they had both gotten over that a very long time ago.

Through her perverse laughter Kairi called after him.

"Oh come on, Sora! I was only kidding."

"Well I'm not laughing Kairi!"

In a huff, Sora walked across their shared miniscule and barely furnished lounge. He stopped at the window to stare out across the street, arms folding across his chest as he did so. Just where had Riku gone?

Peering out between the double row of trees, Sora was barely surprised to see the business coated man still where he had been. All pretence of inspecting Riku's van apparently forgotten, he was now quite avidly staring at the house it was parked in front of. It was, quite possibly, the most suspicious thing Sora had ever seen. Was the arsonist story really a lie after all? Or, perhaps, the arsonist was his true goal, and inspecting the house was the facade? But just who was he trying to deceive? Besides Kairi and Riku, Sora only knew one other person on this street, and that was Eyepatchman. The law guy certainly hadn't seemed like a werewolf. Not that he'd ever met one personally, but they weren't exactly well known for being eloquent speakers. Perhaps a vampire then? No, it was the middle of the day. A vampire would be burning itself to death in direct sunlight like that. What else then. A doppelganger? Or ... a ninja?

He wasn't sure just what it was, but the prospect of the supernatural just seemed more likely than anything simpler these days. Sora could never quite put his finger on it, but it just felt like something was ... different. Changing. As if something big was about to happen and it could explode onto his front lawn at any given moment. Ever since he'd moved in, the whole place just didn't seem normal. Maybe the whole town was haunted.

"He's been there all day."

Anger completely forgotten, Sora looked to his left. Kairi was standing just next to him, plate in one hand, sandwich in the other, staring out at the same man across the street. She was really beautiful; Sora had to admit, even in spite of the current dilemma. She just ... was. Not that he would ever go there again. He was well past that to be sure, but her beauty was a simple fact. He would never admit it, but he felt better with her around. It was comforting.

On a sudden thought, Sora dug into his pocket.

"He gave me his card."

He offered the card to her, and after putting her sandwich back on the plate and quickly dusting her hand on her clothes, Kairi inspected it closely.

"Did he say what he was waiting for?"

"All he said was that he was looking for an arsonist in the area." Was that it? It seemed like he had talked for quite a bit longer than just that one sentence. "Oh, and he thought Riku's van was connected to him. The arsonist, I mean."

Instead of an incredulous giggle or even a snort of disbelief like Sora was expecting, Kairi stayed silent, eyes flicking from side to side as she took in the business card. Sora took the chance to take a closer look at it as well. The small rectangular card was simple and white. It had the name of the man's business in thick bold letters in the middle, the man's apparent name in slightly smaller text underneath. That was it. Apparently the most suspicious man Sora had ever met also had the most boring business card Sora had ever seen. Kairi spoke, bringing Sora back out of this train of thought.

"The PLFA. Never heard of them."

"Neither," Sora agreed, resting his hands on the back of his head. "And did you hear about Roxas Cain?"

Kairi nodded in response, turning the card over to check the back briefly. Handing it back to Sora, she returned her stare to the man outside.

"I was looking forward to hearing his music too."

Sora laughed then. A short laugh, but a laugh all the same.

"Ditto."

Thinking about Riku once more, Sora couldn't help but wonder where he'd gone. If Sora himself had disappeared like this he was sure they'd have both taken it a lot more seriously. But then, Sora wasn't exactly as independent as Riku was. Then again, should that matter? Even for Riku, disappearing in the middle of the night wasn't exactly common practice. With a defeated exhale, Sora settled for murmuring.

"I still don't know where Riku could have gone to."

"He doesn't have to tell us whenever he goes somewhere, Sora."

"Yeah I know, but he should ... leave a note, or something."

For once, Kairi didn't quip over how worried he was. Sora glanced again at the white van outside. Well, he certainly wasn't accomplishing anything here. The suited man wasn't in sight for the moment. Perhaps if he made a run for it he could catch him off guard and drive away before he could ask any more questions.

"I think I'll go look for him. For a bit. Just in case."

Kairi smiled at him then, all humour once more.

"You just want to drive his car, don't you?"

Sora stuck his tongue out at her. Grabbing the keys from the kitchen bench, he was surprised to see Kairi put down her plate and follow him. He snorted at her, folding his arms triumphantly.

"Worried too?"

"Actually," Kairi said, with a gentle dose of smarm, "You need a licensed driver with you at all times, mister learner driver."

"...Oh."

"Besides, we need milk."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Next Life - Chapter Four**

"Zexion!"

"What?"

"Have you seen my shoes?"

'No."

Demyx hurriedly inspected the crowded floor of his closet once more. Just where had he left them? He absolutely did not want to be late again. He had made Xigbar wait last time. Xigbar wasn't letting him forget it.

"Are you sure?" he called out again, more than a little whiney even by his own admission.

"_Oh _well done_, _Demyx, you called my bluff. I know exactly where you keep your shoes. You know, considering the fact that I haven't been here in nigh on three years. And your house is a mess. And you dump all your stuff right where you take it off-"

"Alright alright! I simple 'no' would be fine too, you know."

"Then, no."

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Demyx straightened and scanned his room again. Like the rest of his house, the walls were a deep blue, framed by darker blue curtains an even darker blue ceiling. It always reminded him of being under the ocean, which was an oddly peaceful thought. Most of the time anyway. Not particularly so when he was panicking over his apparently missing footwear.

Sitting down in defeat on his bed – which jiggled in response, being a water bed and all – Demyx tried tackling the problem from a different angle. They couldn't really be in his room. He had an amazing deficit of furniture for them to hide behind in here, considering that most of the floor space was taken up by loose items of clothing. He had already torn his way through said ocean of clothing too, so they definitely weren't hiding under there. Oh, why hadn't he just bought two pairs? That would've made things a _lot _easier.

He whined wordlessly to accompany his astounding defeat. _Okay shoes, you win again._ In response, Zexion's voice came from down the hallway once more.

"Demyx."

"...yeah?"

"Your shoes are by the door."

"...Oh!"

Of course! It was so simple. In a very mildly embarrassing flashback, Demyx recalled finding them there last time too. Well ... bah, never mind. He'll look there first _next time._ He was sure of it. Springing down the dark blue hallway happily, Demyx completely rejected any suspicion that he may have come to the exact same conclusion last time as well.

Coming to the glass framed doorway, Demyx indeed found his sneakers huddled together protectively by the doorway. Defensively sitting next to them were Zexion's polished work shoes; glistening black in comparison to the dull discolouring of his sneakers. Reminding himself that Zexion was indeed still wearing the doctor's coat he had turned up in last night, Demyx scanned the hallway for Zexion himself. He peeked into the lounge, finding no sign of life whatsoever – excluding of course his well fed goldfish; Bubbles. Leaning back into the hallway Demyx jumped to find Zexion standing next to the doorway, peering out the window intently. Well, that was just plain weird.

"There's some guy standing outside," he said.

"Oh?" Demyx replied. Perhaps it was Xigbar. "Does he look like a pirate?"

"Nope. He looks like a lawyer."

True enough, when Demyx peered through the opposite side of the doorway there was indeed a stockily built lawyer man standing on the footpath. He had creepy black braids hanging down all over the place, and the all-too-clean black suit he wore looked absolutely out of place against the sight of the white van behind him.

"What do you think?" Demyx whispered stealthily. Zexion was silent for a moment before answering.

"In my experience, the only people who try to impress everyone they meet are trying to hide something."

It was an effort for Demyx not to snort in disbelief.

"Wow, sceptical much?"

Zexion turned his head, giving Demyx a flat look.

"You _did _ask."

Demyx waved him to silence, pointing quickly out the window at what was going on outside. With his nose practically pressed up against the window pane, Demyx watched as the white van pulled out from the side of the street, driving off smoothly, leaving the braided lawyer guy staring after it thoughtfully. As the van disappeared from sight Demyx turned back to Zexion.

"Maybe he's a spy," he offered enthusiastically.

Expecting some type of witty comeback in reply, Demyx was quite disappointed when Zexion merely flinched and inched back from the window just a little.

"Oh, come on! Who would be spying on _you _Zexion, of all people?"

Zexion didn't take his eyes from the window.

"...Yeah, you're right. I don't know," he replied lamely.

Demyx was entirely unconvinced. Noting once more that Zexion was still in his pristinely white doctor's coat, Demyx pondered for a moment. After the phone call this morning he had just assumed Zexion had driven here straight from the hospital out of worry for his dying patient, or something. Demyx could've believed that – it was _Roxas Cain_ after all, the, like, richest guy in town – but now he wasn't entirely sure. Was Zexion possibly hiding from something else? He'd been pretty upset with the news of Roxas Cain, but it was entirely possible that his surprise visit was caused by something not in any way related whatsoever.

As he opened his mouth to just plain ask the guy, Zexion pointed out the window and spoke, derailing his train of thought completely.

"Is _that _your pirate guy?"

Demyx looked outside. Sure enough, Xigbar was curiously now engaged in a very hushed conversation with the braidy law man. It looked quite funny, really. One man with waist length thick dark braids, the other with a waist length black ponytail, streaked with grey. The lawyer looked scarier for a certainty, but then again, Demyx knew Xigbar. Underneath his heavily scarred exterior he was most probably the least intimidating person Demyx knew.

"Just what are you going for again?" Zexion murmured.

"We're getting coffee," Demyx chirped excitedly. Demyx loved coffee, almost as much as he liked sugar. A sudden thought occurred to him and he spun his head back to Zexion. "Oh! Did you wanna come too? It could be fun!"

Zexion kept looking straight ahead, but there was a long pause before he answered.

"It's alright. I'll stay here."

Demyx searched his response for any nervousness or holding back, but he suspected that Zexion just quite honestly did not want to go. He had never been much of a group person.

"You sure?"

"Completely." Zexion straightened from their spying, turning back to the lounge. "Just don't let the pirate man steal your booty."

Demyx decided not to read too far into that.

"Wait!"

He caught Zexion's arm at the doorframe. Zexion looked back expectantly.

"Do I look okay?" He swept a glance over himself as he asked. Dark blue jeans, light blue shirt. Would he really wear anything else?

Zexion gave him a flat look in response.

"...What? I have a reputation to uphold!"

"With whom?"

"Why, my public, of course!"

With a snort and a wave of his hand, Zexion disappeared back into the lounge. Before Demyx could follow, knocking sounded at the front door. Time to go then.

"Seeya Zex!"

He heard no reply as he quickly slipped out door but was instead immediately greeted by Xigbar.

"Heya Kiddo!" he said as he excitedly clapped Demyx on the shoulder. "Have you been a good boy?"

Xigbar's speech was dripping with his Californian accent, yet even with that aside he was infamous within Demyx's mind for saying things in the weirdest way possible. You got used to it, eventually, but on the odd occasion you were still left wondering if he had meant what you thought he meant, or had meant something else entirely. On these occasions, Demyx felt it was best to just stop thinking altogether.

"Yaha," Demyx bounced, "but come! Coffee awaits!"

Xigbar muttered something incoherently Californian as Demyx made a bee line for the other man's rusty brown car - parked rather conveniently where the white van had been only moments before.

Once safely in the passenger seat, Demyx turned to Xigbar as he climbed inside.

"How've you been Xigbar?"

"Wha?" Xigbar toned, carefully peering through each of the mirrors in turn. He looked back at Demyx blankly for a moment before continuing. "Oh! Oh, right, of course." He started the car and pulled out into the street. "It's this ... this whole craaazy thing ..."

Demyx waited a little longer before realising Xigbar wasn't actually going to answer his question. He was instead avidly spouting out half sentences that made no sense whatsoever while he peered eagerly out the window. Demyx was baffled. Was there something on his face? He quickly leant over and checked himself in the side mirror. Nope, nothing unusual there. His hair was fine too, sticking straight up as always.

"Xigbar?"

"Mm?"

"Are you okay and everything?"

Xigbar didn't take his eyes from his scanning of the streets as he answered.

"Hmm? Oh, 'course, yeah. Exactly." He gestured vaguely with his left hand. "There's like, a lot of things. Man, could be anything, y'know?"

Demyx was confounded. He decided that sitting in silence was far less confusing, and so waited patiently instead. At least the coffee was going to be good.

His patience continued all the up to the point where they were both sitting at their table outside _Ma Dincht's Coffee and Cake Emporium_. The cafe itself was rather richly furnished on the inside, but the sunshine had drawn the majority of the customers out to bask in it. On the outside, most of the patterned glass tables - with quirky umbrellas sticking out the middle, no less – were already taken. Sitting at one of the few remaining empty ones nearer to the road, Demyx stared at the sky blue canvas canopy overhead. They had good taste in colour - that was for certain.

Leaning back in the tacky cane chair – all attempt at conversing with Xigbar long since abandoned – Demyx smiled at his surroundings. They were amazingly pleasant. The sky was bright and open, and the people surrounding him reflected this in turn. The crowded tables echoed with the jubilant life of a coffee shop, with staff bustling to and fro while customers eagerly complained about the infinite problems they had within their daily lives. The air was filled with the sound of cups clinking and the smell of coffee beans. It was wonderful.

Then, of course, there was Xigbar. He wasn't really that old, but his face was host to any number of grizzly scars. This, combined with the grey streaks in his otherwise long flowing hair, projected the image of a man far older than he really was. He was only, like, thirty something, from memory, yet he could easily pass for fifty. The way his hair was drawn back emphasised his ears, which somehow always seemed rather pointy. Combining this with the ever present eye patch he always wore – and, of course, his yellow eye - Xigbar wasn't exactly left as what one would call ... say, appealing to the eye, yet his normal exuberance and sense of fun more than made up for that. That was, of course, normally. Now he just seemed absolutely ridiculous, looking from side to side with narrow eyes inspecting everyone around them. Demyx rubbed his forehead in thought. Xigbar was supposed to be _fun_ to have coffee with, not leaving Demyx to monologue to himself. There was something seriously wrong with this picture.

Giving in to the crazy for just a moment, Demyx looked in the direction Xigbar was peering in.

"Whatcha looking for?"

Xigbar's head whipped around – ponytail flying – to stare at Demyx. He opened his mouth once, then smiled and made a spikey gesture above his head.

"Do you know aaanyone with red hair? Like this?"

Demyx stared incredulously at his hand motion, trying to figure out just what 'like this' meant.

"Uh ... I don't think so?" he squeaked.

"Hmm," Xigbar mumbled into his coffee cup, looking back to his right, "there are others too ... don't know what they look like ..."

Having had enough of this completely uncharacteristic display of nervousness, Demyx clapped his hands together in front of Xigbar's face. It worked. Xigbar was now looking directly at him like he was a crazy person. Had he been a cat, he would've had his ears laid back, snarling face ready to hiss.

Demyx smiled.

"Who was your friend?"

Xigbar blinked in reply, clearly not following.

"Uh, what friend?" he asked, Californian surfer accent making Demyx's ears tingle slightly.

"You know, the guy you were talking to outside my house?"

"Uh ... oh! Him? I uh... I don't know him," Xigbar reasoned, eyes reverting back to their inspection of the other tables once more. "He's just ... some crazy guy. On the street."

"Really? But, you weretalking to him, weren't you?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"You were talking for quite a while actually. It took forever."

"You saw that huh? Well, he's uh ... He's in the mafia."

"The mafia?"

"Yup."

"Didn't they round up the Pleasantview mafia just last year?"

"... The Chinese mafia."

"Chinese mafia?"

"Yeah, that's right. They got my kids. Wanna ransom."

"Dear god! That's horrible! You should call the police or something! You have, haven't you? I'm so sorry to hear about your children Xigbar! I didn't even know you had ki-"

"Look, I'm sorry. I need to use the bathroom just quickly. I'll be right back," Xigbar blurted as he practically fled inside. Taking a sip of his coffee slowly, Demyx watched him walk inside.

He might have over done it, just a little. Still, Xigbar had it coming to him. It practically broke all the international rules of coffee drinking to ignore the person you were sitting with - most especially when this person was Demyx himself; the self proclaimed king of all things caffeinated. Xigbar was just lucky he couldn't actually use his kingly might to have him executed for heresy. Not yet anyway.

Casting his eyes around the surroundings, Demyx looked for something else to hold his fleeting attention span. His eyesight settled on a table just to the left of his. It was host to two rather pretty girls, both around Demyx's age. Whoever they were, they would now be the unwilling prey of Demyx's expert eavesdropping skills. Oh yes, they would.

"It's not quite what I was expecting," the one on the left was saying. She had long black hair, and apparently had a thing for black leather clothing. She waved a gloved hand in the air to make her point. "You know, being a date with _Squall _and all."

"Leon," the girl opposite her corrected, "His name is Leon." This girl had a sizeable braid down her back and, completely contrasting the other girl, wore a bright pink dress.

"Oh, _come on_," the first girl was complaining again, "You know who I'm after. You can stop pretending now. He has spikey hair."

"Like that brown haired kid over there?" She pointed in curiosity at another table off to Demyx's left.

"Spikier."

Demyx was bored already.

He settled for drumming his fingers across the glass table top. First in one tune, then in another. Then both at the same time. _Dear god_, why had he even bothered coming?

A tingling sensation passed through Demyx's fingers rather suddenly. He looked down.

For the second time that day, Demyx's mouth dropped open in a combination of both shock and disbelief. He did, to his credit, manage to not scream this time. Before his tingling fingers sat his coffee cup; white porcelain with a thick blue stripe encircling it. His coffee, however, was not patiently lying inside it's cup like it was supposed to be doing – it was floating several inches above it, rippling wildly like a pinpricked bubble.

Demyx stared wide eyed for few seconds. Then he leaned in closer. Just what was this? Demyx instinctively gripped the table with both hands. Immediately, the floating sphere of discoloured coffee split into two smaller yet equally amazing spheres - spinning wildly in the process.

He watched them placidly, absolutely amazed by the sight. They ... spun. Very slowly, but it was definitely spinning. The two spheres of floating coffee danced calmly in front of Demyx, and he was left wondering just how much of his sanity was left. It was the sugar, wasn't it? It was finally giving him rabid hallucinations. He was a crazy person, and his beloved coffee was the unwilling herald of this mad injustice. Great. Just great.

It occurred to him that other people could possibly look over and see this strange display - or whatever it was - but Demyx ignored his instinctive need to look around. He had the strange feeling that once he looked away, the floating coffee would be gone forever. He didn't want it to stop. It was too pretty for it to do that. His fingers continued to tingle as Demyx loosened his grip on the table top slowly. What would happen if he touched one? He raised a finger very slowly, reaching towards it. His finger suddenly started to tingle quite a lot more, causing him to retract his hand. The untouched spheres stopped spinning, hanging completely motionless in the air. Then, they rippled.

That was, of course, until the peaceful hubbub around Demyx was shocked into silence by a low rumbling roar. The screech of a car suddenly braking immediately followed, and all heads whipped around to stare. Demyx's head whipped around instinctively with everyone else's - but with a sudden yelp of surprise Demyx sprang to his feet. Mildly hot coffee splashed across the table, drenching his shirt completely. Back to his left the low pitched rumble echoed once more. The roar seemed louder this time, sounding inexplicably like holes being torn in reality. Looking to the street, Demyx could see a swarm of people gathering around the car that had braked so suddenly, wordlessly watching something on the road. Whatever it was, they were blocking it off from sight completely, but he did manage to make out the sight of black smokey tendrils before they quickly vanished.

Demyx took a step towards the commotion, but immediately jumped back when some brown haired guy pushed past him. He was urgently shouting something that sounded a little like 'eekoo' as he made his way through the onlookers – shoving his way through really - completely avid to get through. With an indignant snort at the spikey haired jerk, Demyx turned and walked in the other direction. Whatever was going on, Demyx did not fancy the thought of getting caught up it, especially not if it involved filling out any police reports. He most certainly wasn't going to stick around waiting for Xigbar either, not when he was acting like a complete nutter, and definitely not when his coffee decided it was time to spontaneously come to life.

He still wasn't quite sure what the heck had happened there, but he knew for a certainty that he was now left in a coffee drenched shirt. Just the way it clung wetly to his skin irritated Demyx. Stupid magic coffee. Whatever the heck the coffee wanted from him, it would just have to wait until Demyx got back home and changed clothes again. He'd probably have to end up doing laundry while he was at it. He was running dangerously low on clean blue shirts these days.

* * *

Zexion spent a good deal of his afternoon pacing uncomfortably through Demyx's lounge. It just didn't feel right to sit down and relax. It felt ... pompous. Arrogant even. Not because it wasn't his house, but because there was someone out there who would never be able to do any such thing ever again, and it was all thanks to Zexion. It felt awful. Ever since the call this morning he had felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest – a _huge _weight – and yet, even without taking the blame, the weight on his conscience hadn't shifted. If anything, getting away with it made it feel heavier than ever before. He wasn't sure how long he would last before the weight crushed him completely.

He hesitated slightly, then sat tentatively down on the couch. It hadn't always been this hard. He could easily recall a time where he'd been able to send people to their deaths without feeling even the slightest bit of remor- woahwait_what? _

Zexion's hands shook slightly as he took his head in his hands. What was he_ thinking? _He had never killed before! Never! This Roxas thing was just a one off freak accident that would never, _ever _happen again.

Getting to his feet very carefully, Zexion examined his reflection in the window. A very dishevelled and weary looking Zexion looked back at him. His mind had made far too many slips like that for comfort. He was losing it, officially, and yet ... he was more than certain that those who lost their sanity were usually the last ones to know about it. In either eventuality, he had to wonder what was happening to him. These thoughts that were not his own - let alone the murder – they just felt... as much as it pained him to say it, at the time they felt absolutely right. It was as if these thoughts had always been a part of him, yet that thought scared him to the very core. It was impossible to remember things that had never happened. He wasn't going to allow himself to consider anything otherwise.

Letting his mind wander, Zexion glanced out the window absently. There were two kids outside running up and down the sidewalk, their arms out to either side pretending to be some kind of deformed aircraft. How long had it been since Zexion had been that carefree? Quite some time - even before killing Roxas. It made him feel slightly better when he attempted to attribute the murder to the spontaneous thoughts that didn't belong to him. At least that way he felt it wasn't completely his fault. If someone else's thoughts were in his head at the time, then it wasn't exactly-

One of the kids outside had stopped playing airplane. He was staring straight into the window Zexion was standing at, eyes wide and mouth fully open in shock.

Zexion blinked.

The kid screamed bloody murder and ran up the street, arms flailing in panic.

... Well, that was odd.

Zexion felt a slight tingling sensation leave his shoulders as he turned back to the living room. Even as he did so, his problems came crashing back to his mind. He wished his thoughts would stay his own. He wished he had never killed Roxas Cain. He wished he was able to forget all this and just move on. Most of all, he wished Demyx would come back home. Demyx's presence was reassuring to say the least. He wasn't left to mentally beat himself up when he was enjoying Demyx's company.

He looked out the window once more, with no kids anywhere in sight. At least Demyx _could _come back, unlike Roxas...

... No. You know what? Screw it.

He flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders gently. Demyx wasn't here, true, but that didn't mean he had to mope about like a mindless Dusk. He needed something to do to keep his mind occupied. He swept his gaze across the room.

Finding nothing promising, he strode with purpose into the kitchen. Quite prominent on the kitchen counter was a half opened newspaper. It wasn't quite his preferred reading material, but this wasn't exactly the time to be picky. Seizing the initiative he sat down, pulling the stool in close to the bench and flicking back to the front page.

Staring straight back up at him was a smiling picture of Roxas Cain, complete with dangerously spiked hair and cheesy money-filled smile. It was enough to make Zexion want to scream.

He unclenching his fists slowly, Zexion exhaled. Not the optimal reading topic, but again, no time to be picky. Zexion settled down and started to read.

It was pretty straight forward really, one sentence after another after another. Before he knew it he had finished the amazingly under-detailed account of Roxas' sudden death and had moved onto the one just below it, this time discussing the mysterious act of arson two nights previous. Through his knowledge that this was the fire that had mortally injured Roxas in the first place, Zexion knew this article was practically a slight extension of the first - yet the focus was completely different. Instead of regaling important and tragic details of how loved the famous Roxas Cain had been, the article spent it's time theorising the possible causes of the sudden fire, coming to the precise conclusion that one man was at fault. That was, of course, the only man that had been seen leaving the scene. Apparently the arsonist at large was host to a head of red hair and a pair of facial tattoos. Not exactly the most detailed physical description he had ever read, yet he had the impression that if they had any further information they wouldn't be holding it back.

Zexion considered the articles slowly for a moment, running a hand through his hair as he did so. Something about them nagged at Zexion's mind, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, a name that had leaped out at him or something. He settled down to read over them again.

Half way through the article he found it; a quote from M. Xemnas, chief resident of Pleasantview Hospital and certainly the most brilliant mind Zexion had ever encountered. It made sense that they would interview him over a tragedy occurring in his own hospital and all, yet the precise wording he had gone with irked Zexion to no end. _'He will be sorely missed,' _clearly meaning Roxas,_ 'as one of the more promising youths of the generation. The staff who attended him mourn their loss greatly.' _

Mourn their loss indeed! Roxas had been an ill deserving twerp, and the only staff who had _attended_ him was Zexion himself. Of course, from the public view Xemnas' statement would read as well as any generic statement of sympathy, yet being mentioned directly like that brought back all the thoughts Zexion had been trying to distract himself from. Thank you, Xemnas. Thank you very much.

As he pushed the paper away in disgust a word struck his line of sight. Dragging the paper back before him, Zexion scanned the second article for the thing that had caught his eye.

There it was again; Xemnas. This time he was offering an award for any information brought to him directly concerning the arsonist. Now that was ... odd. Zexion wasn't exactly an expert in public matters, but surely it was the police who normally dealt with information concerning crimes like arson. Why would Xemnas be sticking his neck into this one? The only link Zexion could think of was the fact that this arsonist in particular had been the one that had killed the high and mighty Roxas - according to public opinion anyway. Was that Xemnas' goal? Bring justice to the community and get positive media attention? He had never seemed the type to be even slightly concerned with media image, yet here he was, twiddling his fingers and getting people to love him. At least, that's what ...

A chill passed through Zexion. Something clicked.

Xemnas, actively searching for the apparent killer of Roxas Cain.

Xemnas, who would have been directly involved in determining the exact cause of Roxas' death.

Xemnas, who would have had to approve Zexion taking the rest of the week off.

Xemnas, who had checked on Zexion moments after he had accidentally killed Roxas himself.

Xemnas, the medical genius, who had looked past Zexion and had clearly seen the deceased form of Roxas, yet had said not a word.

Zexion's hands shook as his eyes flicked back to the top article. _'The staff who attended him mourn their loss greatly...'_

Xemnas knew.

It made perfect sense, yet it was in complete defiance of everything Xemnas had done. Seeing Roxas dead, why had he not confronted Zexion immediately? Why would he not ask him about it at all, let alone clear his name completely and begin a search for the suspected arsonist? It was unnerving. Completely and utterly unnerving.

Xemnas' face swam before his eyes and Zexion couldn't help but close them immediately. Xemnas knew and was letting him get away with it. But why would he do any of the things he was doing if he knew?

Zexion thought desperately. To know something and to be acting contrary, Xemnas must have some other goal. A goal that needed Zexion out of trouble, somehow involved this mysterious arsonist, and was clearly oblivious to the death of the town's most revered socialite. Or was the death part of the plan all along? Had he been on his way to do the deed himself when he found Zexion had already done it for him?

Getting to his feet, Zexion paced the kitchen, utterly unable to sit still. He could figure this out. He was genius material. He _would_ figure this out.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Next Life - Chapter Five**

Sora felt awful. He had felt it ever since returning home empty handed, and now here he was, pacing his kitchen nervously while Kairi sat there humming to herself.

It turned out that searching for Riku had asked more questions than it had answered in the end. They had found him in a way; Sora definitely wouldn't be forgetting that part. He and Kairi had been sitting rather pleasantly at a glass table, drinking their coffee and minding their own business when Riku had quite simply exploded into the street. Well, Kairi had been drinking coffee; Sora had ordered a hot chocolate. Coffee didn't agree with him, but that was entirely beside the point.

They had heard the noise first, yet sure enough, when they looked up Riku was standing in the middle of the street, white vest and silver hair shining in the sunlight, an oncoming car braking to a stop inches away from hitting him head on. Riku had looked confused, casting his head around eagerly. And then he was gone again. At first, Sora had been quite sure he had simply imagined the inky black smoke curling up around where Riku had been, but then Kairi had mentioned seeing it too. That was when Sora really started worrying. No matter how fast he had gotten to the street side, there had been no trace of Riku whatsoever. None. At all.

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed there looking for Riku before Kairi had convinced him that they should go home. She had made a good point; if Riku was going to find them anywhere, he would look at their flat first. So now they were here, impatiently waiting and – as far as Kairi went – doing word puzzles. She was quite happily entertaining herself by rearranging the letters of people's names into humorous anagrams. Sora did not find this amusing.

Still, there was hope. Riku had spontaneously materialised once, he could probably do it again. And when he did, Sora could yell and scream and throw things at him for scaring him so much. Oh yes, he would. That'd teach the jerk to disappear in the middle of the night and explode on random street corners without asking first.

Sora's train of thought was rather politely interrupted when Kairi spoke to him, making him jump slightly.

"Hey Sora!" she called, flipping her crimson hair over her shoulder as she did so. Sora mumbled incoherently in a vain attempt to disguise his jump, walking to her side as he did so.

"Mmph?"

"Did you know, that your name," she explained, pointing to a hand scrawled note as she did so, "Is one letter away from being a pseudonym for Roxas?"

Sora stared at her blankly for a moment, not following. She had interrupted his plans of revenge for this? Still, Roxas was interesting, and his surprise death meant he definitely made the list of curious conversation points - not to sound morbid at all.

"Roxas. As in, singing Roxas?"

"Mmhmm." Sora leaned in closer. The note, as suspected, had the letters of Sora's own name matching up with those of Roxas'. The only letter left over was the letter 'x'. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be impressed or not.

"Oh. Wow. That's uh, kind of ... cool?"

"Wait till you get this bit," Kairi explained, grinning triumphantly from behind her glasses. She was so pretty when she did that. "You and Roxas were both born on the same day, right down to the very same hour."

"...Really?"

"Yaha."

Kairi looked quite pleased with herself really, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. You'd think that if she was that smart she could've already told Sora how Riku had managed to disappear from all existence. Twice.

"How'd you find that out? The birthday thing, I mean."

"The Internet."

"Oh."

Sora thought that over for a little, eyeing the hand scrawled note for an answer.

"So ... what does it all mean?"

Kairi leaned back further into her chair, arms behind her head.

"Well ... I don't know yet. But it's quite a stretch of coincidence, don't you think?"

"Yeah, maybe. But you gotta admit, it's not _that _much of a coincidence."

"Not yet it isn't." Kairi stared at the ceiling for a moment, clearly thinking something over. "Sora, did your parents name you for any specific reason? Like, does your name mean anything?"

Sora thought that over for a little, wondering if he'd ever asked such questions as a kid. Then he remembered.

"Actually, I was adopted."

"Oh? Really? Why?" Kairi sat up once more, staring at Sora as if this was the missing piece of the puzzle she'd been searching for. Sora had no idea how this was relevant in the slightest. Just what was she getting at?

"Uh ... what? Since when did someone ask why they were adopted?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." To the contrary, Kairi sounded only vaguely sorry. Sora huffed. It wasn't his fault his parents had refused to talk about the issue. They had always been a little touchy about the adoption thing, as if by ignoring the fact completely they could pretend it had never happened.

It was during that brief moment of silence that a low rumbling roar echoed throughout the small flat, followed by the very noticeable thump of something dropping onto the floorboards, hard.

Sora and Kairi looked at each other slowly, then immediately ran for the source of the sound. To surprise of neither of them, it had come from Riku's bedroom.

Yanking the door open, they stood framed in the doorway as they peered inside. Right there, in the middle of the floor, was Riku, lying face down on the floor, completely unmoving. In an instant Sora was by his side, yelling his name eagerly and shaking his shoulders to wake him up. It took him a few seconds to notice Kairi telling him to stop.

"-Sora! You could hurt him."

Obediently, Sora stopped shaking the unconscious form of his friend. It didn't seem right, seeing him lie so limply on the floor. He was always so ... awake, normally. His shoulder length hair splayed out to either side, making him look every bit like a discarded mop.

Kairi felt at his neck briefly, for a pulse, Sora assumed. He silently cursed himself for not thinking of that first. She leant down briefly, head just above his back.

"Well, he's breathing, and he has a pulse."

"_Very _reassuring Kairi."

He hadn't meant to sound that sarcastic, but Kairi took no notice. She was looking around the room carefully. Sora only had eyes for Riku. He still had his hands on his shoulders from when he had been shaking him. He couldn't bring himself to take his hands away, as if simply by holding him he could stop him from disappearing again.

Just then, someone knocked on the front door.

Kairi and Sora both stared out the bedroom door, trying to decipher the source of the sound. The door knocked again.

"Sora, go get it."

"But-"

"Sora," Kairi put a hand on his shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "Riku's fine, he's not going anywhere. I promise."

Somehow, just hearing her say the words made Sora believe it. He smiled back, letting his shoulders lessen their tension in the process. With one last look at Riku, Sora went to answer the door.

What he found when he answered the door, however, was not anywhere in the spectrum of what he had been expected, even after Riku's spontaneous reappearing act. It began with the man in the doorway speaking the magic words.

"Hello, Sora. My name is Leon."

Sora looked up. The man at the door was tall. Sora admitted that he was average height at best, making the other man not abnormally tall at all, but it was still uncomfortable having to look up at him. This was, of course, ignoring the fact that it was dark outside, and that normal people did not knock on people's doors unexpectedly at this hour. Stupid tall people, always breaking the rules.

The offending man in question had brown hair with blue eyes. He was also wearing the worst selection of clothes Sora ever remembered seeing. He wore a dark blue vest - a loose one that looked far too small for him – on top of a white shirt and a pair of long black pants. What caught Sora's eye was the fact that he was wearing not one, not even two, but four belts around his waist, each one looping at a different angle. The belt thing wouldn't have been too bad if it had not been for the further three belt-like straps around his left forearm, just above his gloved hands. Even to Sora's distracted mind it looked strange. Well, 'strange' wasn't quite harsh enough; it looked downright ridiculous.

Sora, being completely disarmed by the man's appearance, did not notice that he had forgotten to reply to the man at all. Taking it all in stride, the man looked Sora up and down.

"So where is it?" the man asked finally. He looked expectant. Sora snapped out of his daze.

"Uh, where is what?"

"The Keyblade. Where is the Keyblade?"

It was then that Sora noticed the man had identified him by name as soon as he had answered the door. Did this man know him? Sora thought his face looked completely unfamiliar. You wouldn't exactly forget someone who had a scar across their face like that. But then ... how did this man know his name?

Well, whatever this man wanted, it wasn't exactly good timing, Riku having just dropped back into reality and all. All Sora wanted was to sit by Riku's side until he woke up. He had no time for badly dressed visitors.

"I'm sorry, I think there's some mistake-"

"There is no mistake. Darkness has taken the other already, has it not?" The man's eyes held Sora's with a fierce intensity. This man was serious; there was no doubt about that. Wait, darkness? In a flash, Sora remembered the shadowy vines that had made Riku disappear earlier at the café. Did this man know what was happening to Riku?

Half way voicing the question, Sora's tongue froze. Just how much could he trust a mysteriously belted stranger who turned up on his doorstep at night, let alone one who went about spouting about words like 'keyblade' and 'darkness'? Perhaps this man was the enemy. How Sora would have made enemies at this point, he didn't know, but with Riku in the state he was, he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Look, I'm sorry but you've clearly got the wrong-"

"Sora," the man interrupted. His eyes commanded attention. Sora gulped. "The darkness is rising. The Keyblade's chosen one must be there to co-"

Sora did not remember Kairi come up behind him, but it was at that point where she reached past him and slammed the door in the strange man's face - midsentence and all. Kairi was awesome like that.

He turned to tell her so but the words died in Sora's mouth when he saw the condescending look Kairi was giving him. It seemed to say 'Honestly, Sora. You know better than to talk to crazy people who knock on the door in the middle of the night.' Having no reply for a look such as that, Sora remained silent. He even felt a little guilty.

Clearly satisfied, Kairi went back to Riku's room. Sora hesitated before following. He turned towards the door. Before he had the time to ponder any more he caught sight of a small piece of paper being pushed under the door. He waited a full minute before picking it up, not wanting the crazy man to know he was still there. Pocketing it without even a glance, Sora's mind turned back to Riku.

The rest of the night passed without much detail. Kairi helped Sora lift Riku up onto his bed, and once it was clear that Riku was in fact completely uninjured and simply sleeping she went off to bed herself. After a good half hour of loyally waiting by Riku's bedside like Sora felt he should, Sora quickly grew extremely bored and more than a little impatient. He was incredibly tempted by the idea of 'accidentally' waking Riku up so he could find out what had happened. Sadly his common sense won the fight and Sora ended up going off to bed as well.

The next day went smoothly for exactly ten minutes.

To the surprise of Sora and Kairi both, when morning came Riku had simply stumbled into the kitchen the way he always did. They had rushed to his side, asked him if he was okay, felt his forehead for a temperature and generally acted very worried about his well being. That was, of course, until he swatted away their hands and rather rudely told them to leave him alone. After a short period of glowering and a stern refusal to answer any questions whatsoever, Riku took a seat at the dining room table and proceeded to eat his breakfast.

Needless to say, this hadn't lessened Sora's worry in the slightest.

Nothing had changed much since then. Sora had poured himself some cereal and had very carefully joined Riku at the table. He didn't press the issue, but his eyes were never far from watching Riku as he ate. Kairi was clearly just as worried. When she had deemed it safe to do so, she had settled down at the table with a book. With Kairi reading, Sora eating, and Riku very avidly not saying a word, it was by far the quietest meal Sora had ever had.

The dining room was small by normal standards, yet now with three grown people crowded into the same corner the silence was absolutely impossible to ignore. The simple table took up half the room as it was, placed up against the wall just so it could fit in the room at all. There were two chairs against the longer side of the table with one at the head, currently host to Sora, Kairi and Riku respectively. Little else could fit in the room without making it extremely difficult to walk through. The kitchen stretched immediately off the end of the room, connected by an archway. Sora could see the unfurnished kitchen benches from where he sat. They were clean, as usual; not out of any desire for cleanliness, but simply because there was no room for mess. Again, apart from the kitchen sink and the fridge by the doorway, there was room for little else. The hallway was small too. It had two doors on each side, housing the three bedrooms and the sparsely furnished lounge, and one door at the end leading to the bathroom. In the noticeable lack of any sense of normalcy about the current situation, Sora was for the first time noticing just how cramped and undecorated the house truly was.

He looked down at his half eaten bowl of cereal. It was an effort to keep the oppressive silence from getting to him. Riku was ... stupid. Sora had no idea just what was going on with him. The weird disappearances were one thing, but a foul mood on top of that was definitely not what he had been expecting. Truth be told, he had been expecting something a lot more normal, something along the lines of a 'oh yes, I'm fine, here's what happened to me, thank you for worrying, you guys are such good friends,' yet clearly even that amount of normality wasn't in the cards this morning. All Riku had to do was open his mouth and tell them what had happened, and yet instead he sat there, ignoring them completely. What a jerk.

Breaking the silence definitely wasn't going to get him anywhere, but Sora was restless. In a last ditch effort to prevent any further arguments, Sora turned his mind back to the night before. It was still vivid in his mind. Of all the things he couldn't explain at the moment, the man who had shown up at the door was right up there with the rest of them. He ran through the encounter again, trying to pick out anything he had missed the first few times.

But all that jumped out of his memory was the vast amount of worrying he had gone through that had amounted to precisely nothing when Riku had finally awoken. Sora was left feeling vastly disappointed. If anything, he only felt worse after recalling everything that'd happened so far. What a dumb idea that'd been.

Looking around the table once more, Sora couldn't help but feel a little miffed. Here he was, worried sick and talking to crazy people in the middle of the night, and Riku didn't even have the decency to hint at a 'thank you'. Kairi turned the page of the book she was reading. Riku kept staring at the wall.

"Are you going to talk to us yet?"

Riku turned and looked at Sora. He said nothing, but the silver hair coming down over his eyes gave off the distinct impression of a glare. Whether he actually was or not, Sora had had enough.

"You know what? Screw you, Riku." He got to his feet, pushing the chair back nosily as he did so. "We were worried sick about you. We still are! The least you could do is _talk _to us!"

When Riku merely stared back at him, Sora slammed his spoon on the table and stalked out of the room.

It just wasn't fair! For all the world Sora just wanted to joke and laugh like they always did, but with Riku being an anti-social prick that just wasn't an option. Pompous ass, making him angry like this. Sora couldn't even remember the last time he had been angry before now. Way to break a track record.

After a few minutes of silent brooding in the lounge Kairi joined him. She said Riku had gone back to his room, again, without saying a word. Sora very much wished he had punched Riku when he had had the chance.

Resisting the urge to march down the hallway and do just that, he instead pulled the cards he had been given from his pocket. The first was the business card the creepy lawyer had given him yesterday morning, the second was the scrawled note the strange man had slipped under their door last night. Two strange people giving him notes in the same day. There was more than enough speculation in that to keep him going for a full month at the very least. And yet, right now, all Sora wanted was to figure out what was wrong with Riku.

_Darkness has taken the other already... _

Just what did that man know about Riku? Sora looked at the piece of paper the man had left behind. It merely said 'You'll want answers_,__' _followed by a phone number.

You'll want answers?Well, clearly. Answers were eluding him left, right and centre. If he had to make a creepy phone call to get them, well then fine.

Turning to ask Kairi what she thought, Sora found that she had in fact left the room already. He clicked his mouth shut and snatched the phone from its wall bracket.

He dialled the number. The phone barely rung once before it was answered.

"Welcome to The White Rose of Wutai! You're currently speaking with Yuffie Kisiragi, acrobat extraordinaire. How can I help you today?"

The girl's voice was amazingly cheerful, with each sentence sounding like an exclamation of great interest. It was a strange choice of secretary for a crazy man - that was for sure. But then, here he was, calling the number. Sora supposed he couldn't judge.

"Uh ... You people were outside my house last night."

If it were possible, the girl's voice sounded even more excited.

"Ah! You'll want the department of Leon. Hold on _just _one moment, I'll redirect you." Sora heard what seemed to be the girl putting her hand over the receiver and yelling over her shoulder. After a moment of silence, a familiar sounding gruff voice spoke.

"Hello, Sora."

Sora seized the initiative.

"What do you know about Riku?"

The voice took a moment to respond. The wait was excruciating.

"If you want answers, we should meet in person. I can't guarantee the safety of this line." Pfft, like that was happening.

"_Meet_ you? Just like that? A total stranger?"

"Clearly, we mean you no harm. We had every opportunity to do something last night and yet, you're fine." He had a good point there actually, Sora hadn't thought of that. "You need our help."

As much as it pained Sora to admit it, the crazy belt man was right. He didn't quite know what to say to the proposition however. What he should do was beyond him. Meet with the guy, or just sit around waiting for Riku to up and vanish again? Somehow, he didn't think he had much choice in the matter.

Tackling the problem from a different angle, the man spoke again.

"Look, it sounds farfetched, I know. But we can help you, and you don't have much time. Tomorrow would be best. You could come here, or we come to you. Whichever you feel safest with."

Sora felt very much like he was digging himself into a hole he would never be able to crawl out of again. He bit his lip before answering.

"Alright fine. You come here. But no funny stuff."

The man seemed to like that answer. He sounded less anxious when he spoke next.

"Listen, Sora. Stay away from anyone suspicious. We aren't the only people who know of you."

Then there was silence.

So that was it. Crazy people and acrobats were coming to his house tomorrow, and in the meantime he had a very secluded Riku who wouldn't talk to him at all. What a wonderful week it was turning out to be.


	6. Chapter 6

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **I'm going to be impossibly annoying for just a few moments. Chapters are being re-organised into a more digestible amount, so just to clear any confusion for the awesome people waiting on updates for this fic, there is nothing in this chapter you haven't already read before. You're looking for the NEXT chapter. Feel free to slip the flashback at the start too, since it was previously in Chapter 3 or something, so you've seen that before, but everything else is BRAND NEW.

Of course, if you have a whopping amount of free time for some reason, do feel free to read it all again. If you are rather sparse on free time, like me, just skip to the new bits. Chapter 8 onwards will flow normally again.

* * *

**The Next Life - Chapter Six**

Zexion's day started innocently enough. He woke up late – a luxury not usually available to those of his career choice – and spent a good while just lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was in the spare room this time. It was pretty spacious, coloured royal blue like the rest of the house, and best of all it meant he got to sleep in an actual bed. Sleeping on that couch had been awful.

Uncomfortable couches aside, Zexion had been greatly enjoying his stay at Demyx's house. It was just ... well, he believed the phrase was 'awesome'. He hadn't had even a trifle of fun in a good long while, that was for certain, but just being around Demyx made the wait seem more than worthwhile. There was always something to do, or something to talk about, or something to point and laugh at. God, how he had missed times like these. How long since he and Demyx had been at college together? Those had been good times, _very _good times. He had sorely missed those days while working at the hospital – where he somehow never managed to fit in, not even with the receptionist. But now, here with Demyx again, he was finally getting the fun he had long sought after.

Thus, it was to Zexion's great disappointment that he discovered a significant dearth in his clothing arrangements. Having come straight from the hospital, he hadn't stopped by his apartment to grab anything to change into. He had been wearing his work clothes for the past day and a half; and it was starting to become noticeable. The choice seemed to be between wearing them for another full day and enduring the sticky sweaty sensations they were starting to give him, or present his dilemma to Demyx. To Zexion Green, genius medical student and master of prudish cleanliness, there was no choice at all in the matter.

Upon hearing his dilemma, Demyx's face fell noticeably.

"Ah," he said, a note of caution in his voice, "Well, you know, if you were wanting to go home and all, I could see you off." The prospect of leaving gave Zexion a peculiar sinking feeling on the inside. He most certainly did not want to go home. For the first time in far too long he was having the kind of fun he had been desperately clawing after for months on end. He did not want it to be over, not just yet.

Had this been any other day in the life of Zexion Green, he would have most likely just swallowed his disappointment and gone along with the first suggestion that was offered to him, assuming in the process that this was the option his host was wanting him to take. Yet, if the past day or so with Demyx had taught him anything, it was that being modest and complacent had lead him absolutely nowhere at all in life. If he was going to finally worm his way into getting what he wanted, he was going to have to open his mouth and make it happen. It was a surprisingly new revelation to the mind of Zexion, and a thrilling one at that, not to mention slightly terrifying. Of course, he had also found that the key to this kind of dilemma was to not let himself think too much and just say the first thing that came to mind.

"Well..." Zexion said slowly. He cleared his throat, unsure of what to say next. _Don't think, speak!_

"Well, you know. If, uh, you didn't mind and all, I wouldn't mind staying a while longer."

Demyx's face brightened immediately. Clearly, this had been just the answer he'd been hoping for. Impulsive speech: One. Modesty: Zero.

Noting for the first time since arriving that Demyx lived by himself in a house far too big for one person, Zexion was puzzled. Just why did someone like Demyx live alone? He was bubbly and happy, and clearly seemed like the person who had no trouble at all getting along with people. It was quite an intriguing mystery, and with Demyx right here at his disposal, Zexion figured he may as well flex his impulsivity a little more.

"Demyx?"

Demyx turned to face him, smiling the absent smile that spoke of pleasant thoughts in a carefree mind.

"Mm?"

"You live alone, right?"

"Oh you bet!" Demyx stretched his arms out to either side. It was an odd gesture, but it seemed to be along the lines of a distinct spacial ownership signifier. He blinked. No, wait, this was Demyx. He was probably just stretching.

"See this space?" Demyx asked, walking through the room as he did so, "It's allll mine." Okay, so spacial ownership had been right. Even so, Zexion was unconvinced. He folded his arms.

"Doesn't it get lonely?"

Demyx paused. He turned back around and looked at Zexion.

"Well, yeah." He cocked his head to the side and grinned again. "But most people can't handle my snoring anyway."

"Don't you mean they run screaming from the lack of proper food?"

Demyx laughed then, poking Zexion meaningfully in the chest with a finger. "It's not like you can talk, mister I-smell-like-week-old-socks."

Zexion turned away to hide his smile.

"You know what? Fine," he said, voice ringing with humour, "I'll just wear some of _your _clothes."

Not giving Demyx any time to react, Zexion walked quickly down the hallway. He reached Demyx's room, slipped inside and locked the door behind him. He genuinely chuckled when Demyx tried and failed to open the door.

"_Hey!_ That's not fair! You cheated, Zex."

Even with the door shut, Zexion could imagine Demyx's lethal pouting face.

"_Thank you_ for the kind gesture, Demyx," Zexion called back sarcastically, "It really was a generous offer." He grinned as he looked around Demyx's room. He may as well. It's not like his clothes were getting any cleaner.

As he searched the wardrobe for something clean, he could hear Demyx laughing off his defeat in the hall way.

"Fiiine, but we're totally swinging by your place later to get some stuff."

It was under these circumstances that they arrived at Zexion's apartment an hour and a half later. Being in the middle of town as it was, the apartment was on the sixteenth floor of a ridiculously tall building, complete with a tiny balcony that looked out over the busy city streets.

Demyx strode in happily, looking around in amazement.

"Dude, do you even _live _here? It's so clean!"

Zexion followed him in, decked out - as he was - in clothes that were noticeably far too big for him. He hadn't noticed the height difference all that much before, but it turned out Demyx was far taller than Zexion had expected.

It felt strange being home after all that had happened. It was spotless, as it always was. Zexion couldn't handle it any other way. Looking around it now, he couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed to live here on his own for so long. In comparison with Demyx's place, it just seemed so ... lifeless. No wonder he had been so miserable. The fact that it had remained completely unchanged throughout the recent events made it seem even slightly unreal. If he had been caught, this apartment most definitely wouldn't have missed him. There was next to nothing in it to signify that it had been _his _apartment at all, while Demyx's house was about as characteristically _Demyx _as one could get. It was a mess, there were clothes everywhere, and it was _fun._

Speaking of Demyx, he was at the balcony window, looking out over the city with amazement. Zexion joined him, folding his arms as he did so. The view was quite pleasant really, as far as city views went. There was a beach several miles to the north, but it was completely out of sight. The horizon here was made by high rising buildings all around. Pillars of white, black and grey rose in every direction, with thousands of shining windows reflecting the blue sky up above. The centre of town was directly before them, the place where the tallest of the tall buildings all gathered around the very oldest and by far the biggest building in all of Pleasantview. From the suburbs it was easy to be fooled into thinking that Pleasantview was a town of sorts, yet from here there was no doubting that it was a indeed very well functioning city.

"You really like your job, huh?" Demyx remarked casually, pointing out the window, "It's like... RIGHT there."

True to his word, several clumps of tall buildings away was the hospital, shining white in the vast city landscape.

Zexion thought for a moment. _Did _he like his job?

"Well, I suppose," he answered, not entirely sure of the answer himself any more. "I used to love it, but it's kind of ..."

"Boring?" Demyx offered.

"Lacking. It lacks all the things I was hoping it would be."

"Oh. Well, that's no good." Demyx was turning to look around the rest of the apartment now. "I don't even have to ask if _you _live alone. No-one else could be this manically tidy."

Zexion frowned at the echo of his own thoughts. Demyx, however, continued to smile as he wondered over to the bookshelf. He picked up an ornament, looked at it briefly, then put it back in the completely wrong spot before picking up another one. A week ago, Zexion would have simply imploded at this mass breach of his perfectly ordered system, yet now he just watched Demyx with interest, trying very hard not to smile.

"You know what you need?" Demyx said, finishing his examination of the ornaments and moving onto the coasters, "You need someone else to come in and mess up all your stuff for you. This place looks like a _museum_."

Zexion snorted. "Why don't I just move in with you and give that _dump_ some order?"

He had, of course, meant it as a joke, but Demyx turned to smile at him as if it was a brilliant idea. Zexion felt a pang of sympathy for the guy. He could see it in his eyes. Demyx was lonely, jumping at the first chance to springboard his old roommate back into his house.

"Well? You wanna?" Demyx offered with more than a tinge of excitement. His smile faltered as his eyes flicked to the window and back. "Oh, I suppose it'd be a bit too far from your work or something huh?" He scratched the back of his head, clearly assuming his suggestion had been a terrible idea. Zexion just wanted to hug the poor guy – you know, apart from the fact that he wasn't exactly the hugging type.

Zexion scratched his chin. He turned and looked out the window, trying his very best to sound like he was thinking things over in his mind. In truth, there was no way in hell he'd turn down an offer like that, not from _Demyx Brine_ anyway.

"Well ... it's not _too _much of a drive from your place..."

He glanced back at Demyx - who seemed unconvinced.

"Dude, it took us an _hour._"

"It takes a lot less if we're not trying one of your 'shortcuts', Demyx."

Demyx smiled again at that, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Oh. Yeah."

Zexion summoned his thoughtful look again. "What's your rent like?"

"Rent?" A confused look passed over Demyx's face briefly, his green eyes narrowing. "Oh! Oh, no. I don't pay rent."

Zexion was baffled. "What?"

Demyx had picked up one of the couch cushions now and was turning it slowly in his hands.

"My parents left me the place when they passed away, you know?"

Zexion figured this was the place in normal conversation where a normal person would have offered their condolences and voiced how sorry they were that Demyx had lost his parents. Zexion, however, was not just a normal person. He stared.

"...you don't have to pay rent?"

"That's the gist of it yeah."

"But-"

Zexion stopped the sentence verbally, but it continued in his mind all the same. _But how was that at all fair? _Demyx, who sporadically tutored music students once a week, paid no rent whatsoever, while Zexion, the genius medical student knee deep in every kind of debt there was, paid more rent than he could even afford! _Is this your sense of 'justice' universe? Well? Is it? _

"But what?" Demyx asked, smiling curiously at him. Zexion changed his tactic.

"But uh ..." No, you know what? Screw it. Zexion changed his tactic back, letting his impulsive speech skills come to the surface once more.

"You suck, Demyx." Now satisfied, he folded his arms, sticking his tongue out for good measure.

Zexion did not have time to dodge the cushion before it hit him square in the face.

Demyx was laughing. Against all logical thought, Zexion laughed too. Oh, how he had missed fun like this.

"Okay, come on," Demyx said, quickly diverting attention away from any potential counterattacks, "Let's get your stuff."

Demyx made his way into Zexion's room. After a moment of thought, Zexion followed.

"So, it's alright if I move in?" he asked, unsure whether they'd actually agreed on the subject or not. A pillow to the face wasn't exactly in his normal repertoire of social interactions.

Demyx grinned at him, eyebrows drawn down in a playfully menacing way.

"Oh, you had better. Otherwise the teddy bear gets it!"

Zexion looked on in mock-horror as Demyx brandished his beloved Mister Snuggle Bunny. He raised his hands defensively.

"Alright Alright. Just put the bunny down and no-one gets hurt."

Demyx barked a laugh.

Zexion lunged. Using his long arms to great advantage, Demyx held the bunny high in the air and fled the bedroom, Zexion right on his heels. It wasn't until much later that they remembered what they had come for.

* * *

Xigbar leaned back in his chair, continuing to wait. Oh, how Xemnas loved making them wait. Xigbar wasn't opposed to the _idea _of waiting per se, but it sure as hell wasn't any fun when it came to the practice part. Especially in this room. It was by far the most boring room in all existence, Xigbar was sure of it. There was literally next to nothing in it; no windows, no wall hangings, no curious arrangement of pot plants, nothing. Just a table and thirteen chairs, all plain, all white, and all completely boring. With absolutely nothing of interest to look at, the only thing left to do was think. Xigbar hated thinking.

Two of the others were in the room too, but they were hardly likely candidates for conversation. To his left was Lexaeus, with his ever constant frown and broad frame. He barely ever made small talk, seeming completely content to just sit in the same place silently for hours. To his right was Xaldin, another broad man but with a series of lengthy black braids. He held his own in conversation, but it was hardly the kind of conversation Xigbar wanted to get himself into. The man seemed to delve into his mind and smirk at every detail, as if each piece of information was some tool that would be useful to use against him later. No, he did not like talking to Xaldin. He vaguely wondered if these people had a life at all outside these meetings. They didn't exactly seem the lively types.

But then, he had seen Xaldin outside the hospital just yesterday, so he guessed they did actually exist elsewhere. They were dangerous people to underestimate in any case, he remembered that much. All of these people were. Of course, so was he himself – that was, if he ever remembered how to do anything. For the moment he could take comfort in the fact that no-one else seemed to be making much progress either, but even with that holding them back, these people were still remarkably risky to be around. It was precisely that reason why he avoided conversations with Xaldin for the time being. _The Whirlwind Lancer _was his 'official' title, but until the time came where that made any sense at all Xigbar had dubbed him _The Silver-Tongued Lancier. _It made far more sense for the moment. There was no way in hell Xigbar was letting that man dig into his mind anytime soon.

The man had scared him enough yesterday as it was. On his way to get some good old coffee Xaldin had been quite plainly standing on the street outside his friend's house. For a very brief and terrifying moment, Xigbar had thought he was being targeted. He'd almost made a run for it, but apparently Xaldin had been there for no such reason. The braided man had been surprisingly plain in telling him why he was there; not one, but _four_ different traces. All too weak to follow just yet, but just the fact that there were fourof their targets all milling around in the same area was quite simply incredulous. Apparently the Pull was far stronger than they had been expecting, but there it was. Even better was the fact that one of those four had been the one they knew the appearance of. It was in all the papers now, the man could not hide forever. As for the others ...

Xigbar hated admitting his shortcomings, but they could quite simply not find these people without some sort of hint. There was the completely embarrassing admission that he had been near two of them just yesterday, but he had been unable to act on it. As it was, he'd only just made it out of sight before his 'power' had kicked in again. Only _after _he inexplicably found himself on the roof of the coffee shop had he felt the resonances. He had been furious. They were _right _there, and Xigbar was stuck on the roof, with no way to get down whatsoever. _Oh_ how he awaited the day when he had this stuff under control.

The door to the room opened and in swept a very stately looking Vexen. As he slowly made his way towards the table a cold chill spread across the room. Xigbar stared openly, very barely resisting the temptation to drop his jaw. Speak of the frickin' devil, He could _control _it!

Before Vexen had even taken his seat Xigbar was leaning across the table in his direction.

"How'd you _do_ that?"

The gaunt man smoothened out his lab coat before looking up. By the look on his face he was certainly enjoying the attention. He considered Xigbar with a smirk before speaking; his mannerisms making sure each and every syllable received its exact emphasis.

"There are ... ways of assuming control over such matters. I seem to have stumbled upon a most effective one."

Vague, as always. Xigbar knew Vexen was toying with him but he didn't care. If Vexen could help him control it, then it would be worth playing to his amusement in the end.

"Can you use these 'ways' on others?" he asked.

Vexen crossed his arms and let out a thoughtful 'hmm'. Xigbar wasn't fooled. He would have thought this through long ago.

"The results differ from subject to subject, so I cannot help you without extensive ... 'study', as it were." He was giving Xigbar that weird look, the one that spoke of scientific experiments that he would _greatly _be enjoying. Wait, hadn't he just seen Vexen the day before yesterday?

"You figured this all out in a _day_?"

"Naturally." Vexen made a self gratifying gesture. "I am a scientist, after all. Science is what I do."

"Vexen," Xaldin growled across the table, clearly unamused, "You can stop feeding your ego any time now." The flat look Xaldin was giving him clearly implied that 'any time' was most certainly 'right now'. Psh, as if Xaldin could talk. To his credit though, Vexen's smiled never lessened.

"Why yes, of course." Vexen was doing that look again, his gaze flickering between Xigbar, Xaldin and Lexaeus all in turn. "How silly of me. Why don't we all congregate at my laboratory this evening? We could run some tests, yes? I assure you, your powers will be yours again by sundown."

Xigbar blinked.

"Woah, hold your horses there. Shouldn't it take longer than that?"

Vexen made some dismissive hand gesture.

"Please, it's not like you're actually _learning _anything here. You are simply remembering that you can do something. You know it already, the skill is already mastered. All you need to do is _use _it."

The excitement in his voice was chilling. Well, it might have just been his icy crap, but in either case Xigbar wasn't going to pass this up. If he could learn to control his power then all his problems would be solved!

Thus, Xigbar was feeling rather smug when the door finally opened once more, announcing the presence of the esteemed Xemnas. To Xigbar's surprise however, it was not just Xemnas who walked into the room. A tall man followed him in. He had – of all the ridiculous things – long blue hair with an 'x' shaped scar across his face, right between the eyes. Even more notable was the distinctly pointed shape his ears were taking, along with a familiar yellow glint in his eyes. If Xigbar's memory served him right about how he himself had gained eyes like that, then this man was formidable indeed.

Xemnas reached the head of the able and spoke without sitting down. The man just behind him remained standing too.

"Greetings, friends," Xemnas said, his deep voice still seeming far lower than his looks would have suggested. "Today we welcome another into our midst – or, should I say, another comrade has returned to us."

So, that's what this was all about. Xemnas continued his half introduction, half re-welcoming: apparently this man's name was Saïx, and he was Number Seven in their order. Even more interesting was what Xemnas said next.

"Xigbar, Xaldin. Saïx will be assisting you in your search." Xemnas smiled then. The world stood still when Xemnas smiled. "He has certain information regarding the whereabouts of another. You will go with him and offer a proposition to this man eluding our capture. Tell us his name once more, Saïx."

All eyes turned to the blue haired man as he spoke.

"Axel."

* * *

Zexion bounced his foot idly as the car swiftly approached Pleasantview Hospital. On a whim, he had figured that he might just be able to sniff something out while he was still in town. Xemnas knew the truth about what had happened on Monday night, and Zexion wanted to know what his real intentions were. He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to find anything out, but Xemnas' office was as likely a starting place as any. He had made sure he had grabbed his sleuthing shoes before they had left the apartment.

It hadn't been too hard to get Demyx to make a pit stop at the hospital - he even seemed rather excited. Apparently getting to see his workplace was a point of great interest to Demyx. Zexion had tried telling him just how boring it really was, being a _workplace _after all, but Demyx was having none of it. It worked for Zexion either way. It wasn't like he had to 'sneak' into the hospital, being on the staff roll as he was. He just hoped Demyx didn't blow his cover.

They made it past reception easy enough. The brown haired receptionist was taking a call at the time but she smiled and nodded at Zexion as they walked past. Zexion nodded back briefly. Demyx waved his arms in the air, grinning like an idiot and mouthing some kind of greeting. Ah, well, who needed a low profile anyway?

Zexion felt apprehensive as the elevator whirred into action. Maybe coming here hadn't been the best of ideas after all. If Xemnas was willing to keep quiet about the murder, then perhaps Zexion should just leave him to it. People were usually a lot less willing to favour someone who went snooping through their office, that was for certain. Still, he had already come this far, and the idea of leaving without having done anything just seemed wasteful. At the very least, Demyx seemed to be having a good time.

The doors dinged open as they reached the thirteenth floor.

"Wow, nice place!" Demyx said, striding into the pseudo-waiting room, "Is this where you work?"

"Not quite." Zexion folded his arms. From the waiting room the bleach white hallway stretched out straight ahead with only a few doors branching off to either side. There were no operating rooms or patients or anything else of the kind on this floor, it was merely administrative. Well, 'administrative' in the loose form of the word. This floor was basically the private workspace of Xemnas himself, his office being the only room other people ever came here to see, though there were plenty of others. No-one really questioned why Xemnas would need so much space; there were more than enough rooms on the other floors, so there was never really any need to.

"Oh! What are we doing here then?" Demyx asked as he wandered over to stare at an elaborate painting on the wall. It was of some sort of mermaid, or merman, or mersomething.

"I need to get something from my boss' office." Zexion paused. Demyx would be hard to miss in a place with no other people in it. "You might need to wait here."

"Hm? Oh, that's cool."

Demyx turned his head sideways, looking at the picture from a different angle. He seemed pretty enthralled, so Zexion figured it was safe to leave him there. He exhaled slowly. Okay, this was it.

He swiftly made his way down the corridor, stepping gently and making as little noise as he possibly could. He ducked as he passed a window looking into some kind of meeting room, not pausing to theorise over just who would be up on this floor. Soon he was at the end of the hallway, tugging the door to Xemnas' office open and quickly slipping inside.

Xemnas' office was pristine. The wall to the left was covered in neatly organised and framed certificates, while the right wall was lined with all manner of medical journals and textbooks. In the middle of the room was Xemnas' desk; plain and white with precisely placed stacks of books and paper. There was also a small pot plant in the corner, though Zexion didn't recognise the size and shape of the leaves.

He was careful not to move anything as he inspected the contents of his boss' desk top. There was one book still open – in fact, the _only _book left open. Zexion took this as a sign that it was currently in use. Nothing else really seemed to jump out at him as suspicious evidence, so he leant over and scanned the contents of the open pages. Everything was handwritten. It seemed to be some kind of note compilation of sorts, but without a context they didn't really seem to mean much. His hand twitched. He might be signing his death warrant here, but...

He picked up the book and flipped it to the front page. Blank. He flipped to the second page and found himself looking at a short list. He read it.

_I. Maximillion Xemnas: The Superior. _Zexion snorted. The 'Superior'? The Superior of what? Was this a roleplay that Xemnas busied himself with in his spare time? Zexion never would have guessed it of the man. He always seemed far too serious to do anything fun like that. Zexion scanned the rest of the list.

_II. Xigbar Capes: The Freeshooter. _That name seemed familiar to Zexion, but he couldn't quite place where he'd know it from. The next few names he didn't recognise.

_III. Xaldin Gustav: The Whirlwind Lancer. _

_IV. Vexen Froid: The Chilly Academic. _

The next one caught Zexion's eye.

_V. Lexaeus Stonewall: The Silent Hero. _Presuming this was indeed the same Lexaeus Stonewall that Zexion had encountered a few days earlier, Zexion couldn't help but smile. _He _hadn't seemed like the type to roleplay either. The next name on the list, however, made Zexion's eyes pop.

_VI. Zexion Green: The Cloaked Schemer. _

Zexion's mind raced. Okay, so not a roleplay, but something completely serious. But what? His name seemed to dance in front of his eyes. He looked back to the list for some answers.

_VII. Saïx Arte: The Luna Diviner. _Nothing he recognised in that one. The next five numbers were blank, but the last two were filled in.

_XIII. Roxas Cain: The Key of Destiny. _

_XIV. Xion Roberson_: _The Failure. _

Zexion stared, not comprehending. His name was on a list, with the name of the man he had killed no more than two days before, as well as the name of his boss and a co-worker. Just what was the connection?

If there was anything in the room that was going to prove to Zexion that Xemnas was up to something devious, this was it right here. Yet, Zexion couldn't help but think he'd uncovered something far weirder than even he had been expecting.

His hand tingled. Zexion looked up, realising he had probably stayed in Xemnas' office long enough. Yet ... the names. They were still a mystery to him. Surely a minute longer wouldn't hurt.

He flicked through the pages of the journal quickly, finding all manner of odd notes on things he didn't quite know the significance of. Hearts and darkness, keyblades and nobodies, heartless and a 'kingdom hearts'. It all made no sense. Zexion stopped at the most recently written page. It read:

_What the mind forgets, the heart knows. _

_Hearts - ever connected - resonate with each other, reminding the body of what it once knew. _

_Connected to all hearts and resonating with them all: Kingdom Hearts._

It seemed as vague as anything in the book, but it most definitely sounded important. He wasn't going to figure out anything else here, not unless he took the book with him. As tempting as it was, he just couldn't bring himself to do that. Clearly, Xemnas was at the heart of something far more complicated than Zexion knew at this point, and he was not going to provoke the anger of something he didn't understand. He wasn't going to puzzle any of this out if he left it behind however...

His hand tingled again. Zexion tried to calm his nerves. He snatched a blank piece of paper off the desk and quickly scrawled down that last note, adding underneath it the list of names from the front of the book. Pocketing it quickly, he placed the book ever so carefully back where he had found it and leapt to the doorway. Now more than ever before, he did not want to be caught anywhere near here. Not by Xemnas, not by any of his colleagues, not even by the _janitor. _Zexion wanted to be gone from here.

He was halfway down the corridor when the meeting room door opened behind him. Skidding to a halt, Zexion's head spun. There were no doors anywhere near him duck into and hide. The other end of the corridor was too far away to make it in time. He was trapped.

Someone was walking into the corridor. Zexion closed his eyes as tight as he could. In near panic, he willed them not to see him. He didn't want to be caught, he just wanted to get out. He didn't want them to see him.

His hands tingled.

The sound of shoes echoed loudly in the corridor, the group of people were heading right this way. Ah, well, Game over. Zexion peeked his eyes open ever so slightly.

The people of the meeting room were sweeping down the corridor, looking straight past Zexion as they headed towards the elevator. They didn't seem like they were going to notice him at all. Zexion felt a wave of relief rush over him. Not caught, not yet. His eyes narrowed as he watched the one in front walk ever closer to him. He still hadn't seen him yet, but he was walking straight towards him.

With a silent yelp, Zexion dodged to the side. The group of four walked straight past him, not even acknowledging his existence. Some nerve they had! Somehow, the air seemed to lose a certain chill as they walked further away. Zexion's eye caught on one of the two taller ones. With broad shoulders and short brown curled hair, the man was unmistakable. Lexaeus Stonewall. He hadn't even _looked _at him! How utterly rude!

Looking back at the open meeting door, Zexion's breath caught. Xemnas was closing the door behind him, engrossed in some idle conversation with a blue haired man next to him. For a long moment, Zexion didn't move, expecting Xemnas' eyes to look directly at him and exclaim in surprise.

The moment passed. Nothing happened.

Zexion was momentarily puzzled. Then he looked down. It was at that moment that Zexion Green was struck utterly speechless. The floor beneath him shone white. Between the floor and his eyes there was nothing to be seen. Nothing at all. No shoes, no legs, no hands, nothing.

Visible or not, Zexion's eyebrows rose dangerously high. Surely this was not possible. This was madness!

As if in response, Zexion felt his hands tingle once more. Before his eyes he saw a slight shimmer, a slightly ... hand shaped shimmer. His hand was becoming slightly visible again.

Immediately, the man next to Xemnas turned on the spot. He was staring straight at Zexion, yellow eyes unblinking.

_Stop thinking, _Zexion thought furiously. _It's possible, of course it's possible! I'm invisible, nothing out of the ordinary here, nooo, nothing at all. _

The faint shimmering stopped, hand invisible once more. Zexion mentally breathed a sigh of relief. He looked back up. Xemnas seemed to be searching for his companion's distraction.

"Ah," his immensely deep voice said, "You must forgive Vexen. He has a habit of... showing off, as it were."

After the other man gave a particularly slow nod both men walked off in the other direction. Zexion waited until they were completely out of sight before allowing himself to move at all. He spun, quickly hurrying in the opposite direction.

Demyx was still waiting for him in the elevator room, looking to the elevator thoughtfully. His mind still racing, Zexion tapped Demyx on the shoulder.

Demyx spun around, eyes wide as he looked left and right.

"Who's there?" he called out.

Before Zexion had time to think Demyx's head spun to stare directly at Zexion. He squeeled.

"Wha- er, _Zexion? _How'd you DO that?"

Wordlessly, Zexion grabbed his arm and pulled him into the opening elevator door. He hit the button for the ground floor, letting out a breath of great relief as the doors finally slid closed.

"Oi." Demyx had his arms folded, his face for once completely humourless. "Tell me what's going on."

Zexion faltered.

"I ..." _I what? _"I can't."

"What do you mean 'I can't'? Tell me!"

Zexion's shoulders slumped. His mind was in turmoil. Just what _had _happened? For once, his mind offered no explanation, and he was left looking at Demyx with a feeling of complete helplessness.

"I don't know," he said slowly, "I would tell you if I knew, Demyx, trust me. But I have absolutely no idea what just happened."

Demyx's face softened. He unfolded his arms. He opened his mouth to comment but just then the door dinged to announce their arrival at the ground floor. They walked silently out onto the ground floor. As they passed the now empty reception, Demyx offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Okay, but you tell me the minute you figure it out, alright?"

Zexion blinked a few times. Had Demyx just accepted that he, Zexion Green, had just turned invisible? As unlikely as it seemed –not that any of this situation was likely - it appeared that Demyx had done just that. Wasn't this the part where he panicked and ran away screaming? Zexion sure felt like doing so. But no, here Demyx was, smiling at Zexion and accepting it all as fact. How on earth had he managed to wind up with the most carefree and trusting friend there was?

In a similar vein of thought, just what the _hell _was going on?


	7. Chapter 7

Hey look, I haven't updated this in months. Sorry about that guys! Life took over for a while, but here's a new chapter for you. Let's hope the next one isn't five months away.

If you're wanting a quick recap of what's happened, but don't really want to go back and read the tens of thousands of words so far, then here you go: Zexion 'accidentally' killed Roxas, fled to Demyx's house, and is trying to figure out what mister Xemnas is up to. Axel's on the run for setting a building on fire and injuring the town's most favourite socialite. Riku pulled a strange disappearing act and then wouldn't talk to anyone on reappearing. Sora hates coffee, and Eyepatchman has revealed himself as secretly being god. One of those things is untrue. CAN YOU FIGURE IT OUT?

Epic thanks of supreme awesome goes BlueAcidRain, who Beta'd for this chapter and is incredibly wonderful in a thousand different ways. A thousand elephants parade in her honour : D

And without further adue, enjoy!

* * *

**The Next Life - Chapter Seven**

_The thick sliding doors shut themselves silently behind Axel. The guards to either side of the door glanced at him briefly before returning their gaze to the room before them. _

_With sunglasses framing his face beneath his thick furrow of red hair, Axel felt like somewhat of a twat walking around with sunglasses on inside. People barely looked at him twice however, so he figured it was safe to leave them on as per his plan. They did go quite well with his other clothes too; he wore a tight black sweater and black jeans, both feeling precisely as new as they were. They hadn't been Axel's idea, but he had to admit, they didn't look as bad as he had originally thought they would. Wearing all black just felt comforting. He couldn't quite explain why, but he assumed it was just one of those things. You know, like global warming or something. _

_From the look of the décor, Pleasantview casinos were just like casinos everywhere. Thick red carpet stretched throughout the fancy looking wide room, with green layered card tables and slot machines arranged in sections designed to attract people in and never set them free. The ceiling overheard was richly furnished with an elaborate series of lights, casting a warm glow down into the chiming din below. People laughed and moaned as they gambled to sound of clinking money and short musical jackpots, the trained staff moving among the patrons with a strict sense of purpose. A purpose... yes. Axel had one of those as well._

_He made his way through the tables slowly - there was no rush as far as he was concerned. The gamblers were exactly who would be expected to be gambling on a late Tuesday afternoon- that is, the same people who spent all their time gambling anyway. Their lavish clothes and loud voices were all it took to convince Axel that these people barely noticed any money they lost in fixed bets; they clearly had far more where that had come from. Fine suits and close fitting dresses surrounded Axel on every side. He ignored them all. There was only one person here who held any importance to him whatsoever, and for reasons he didn't quite understand completely. Were he not entirely convinced that his every movement was being watched from every conceivable angle, he would have considered trying out his newly found desire to pilfer something. The look of the amazingly stern guard watching him by the doorway assured him that he was probably making the right decision._

_He squeezed his way around two well-built women, blocking the way between tables, only to be confronted by the casino mascot, waving his arms happily in a white puffball of a suit. The intended creature might have been a dog, or a rabbit, or even a bear. Impossible to tell, really. It was equally impossible to ignore it completely, dancing on the spot and blaring its megaphone, which was somehow held in place by a small black cat sitting atop its head. Axel supposed some people might find it creative. He simply found it annoying. As it turned it's head Axel quickly slipped past it, only barely resisting the urge to knock it over as he did so. _

_He quickly made his way to the back of the casino. The back wall was taken up by a small circular stage, with bright lights centered on the three female performers paid to entertain their wealthy patrons. After a quick scan of the audience Axel figured it couldn't hurt to see what they were up to. He was sorely lacking any source of entertainment these days. The three performers were putting on some kind of act, with two of them enjoying themselves greatly; laughing at their own jokes and occasionally jumping up and down on the spot. The third just seemed disgruntled, frowning at the audience with her arms crossed. They all wore indescribable velvet dresses, and while they looked expensive, they showed far more skin than even Axel would've thought possible. One was in pink, one in yellow, the last in blue. The sign before them read "Your Friendly Neighbourhood Gullwings." The one in yellow was announcing that they would be singing shortly, and Axel figured it was time to go. _

_Tearing his eyes away from the display, he continued his search, only slightly disappointed that he didn't have time to watch more. He rubbed his gloved hands together unconsciously, eyeing the people at each table closely. _

_Then he saw him. With a pair of rings at the top of each ear and a very well kept goatee, the light haired man was unmistakable. He wore a very rich looking black suit with a ruffle of red silk around his neck and white embroidered gloves. As Axel pushed his way closer the man's accent was unmistakably British; the crisp sound of cups of tea and scones with grey haired queens. This was definitely him. _

_Scuttling his way to the table somewhat stealthily and standing slightly to his left, Axel watched him play whatever game it was that he was playing. Axel couldn't recall the name, but seemed to involve lots of dice rolling and bets of exorbitantly high amounts of money. _

_The man rolled the dice. _

_Axel immediately clenched his fists. The tingling feeling he felt pouring off the other man was overpowering. There was simply no better way to explain it. As soon as the dice left the man's hand Axel's own hands seemed to vibrate from the inside out. Something deep behind Axel's navel tugged at him, seeming determined to pull him towards the man. Axel was so caught up in the strange sensation he almost missed it as the dice came to an abrupt stop, showing a three, and a four. After a moment of counting Axel confirmed that this indeed added up to seven. That sounded particularly lucky, so it probably had some meaning within the rules of whatever game it was. _

_There was polite applause from around the table as women dressed in silk laughed happily and made doe eyes at the roller of the dice. Taking it all in stride he made a flourishing gesture with his hand and spoke in his strong accent, showering them all with unspoken promises of a warm fondness and a gentle appreciation. _

_"Your delightful presence warms my very soul, my dears, I assure you. But now, I'm afraid you must excuse me for a brief interlude." He turned his head, staring straight at Axel. His blue eyes were piercing. "I have ... an unexpected visitor." _

_The women twittered happily amongst themselves as they left the table, obeying the man's request at their own careless pace. At this distance the man seemed far more elegant than Axel had expected from afar. His graceful short hair seemed to shine, blue eyes staring straight into Axel's as he smiled expectantly. _

_Axel spent more effort than he was willing to admit keeping himself calm. It was rare that he was so affected by an appearance, but something about this man seemed to gnaw at his memory. _

_Taking the initiative, Axel spoke the instructed line. _

_"'Off with her head.'"_

_After a brief hesitation, he made the hand motion to accompany it; a flat hand drawn across his neck. The whole thing was utterly ridiculous, but he did it anyway. It would be worth it in the end - or so he hoped. He wasn't very big on embarrassing himself for no reason whatsoever._

_Despite any momentary suspicions that the whole thing may have just been a farce, the other man clapped his hands together and smiled in amusement. _

_"Ah, splendid. I had assumed it was you." The air around him tingled again - accompanied by the same tug from somewhere deep inside Axel - and the man fanned a hand of playing cards before him. "What does your master wish to say?"_

_Axel folded his arms, raising his head slightly higher as he did so. Somehow the man's flair just seemed intimidating, making Axel suddenly wish he was slightly taller. Looking down at the man would have made him seem far less pompous._

_"He says, 'it would be a pleasant day for a stroll around the garden.'" It was an effort not to cringe at how silly it all sounded. Rich people really needed better things to do with their time. "He wants to talk of 'cabbages and kings.'"_

_Plucking a single card out and twirling it between his fingers, the other man considered him silently. His smile never lessened - that small upward twinge that spoke of mild amusement in a world of ever present pleasures. Axel watched him right back, never letting his stance waver. After a moment the man spoke. _

_"Some advice about this new master of yours," he placed the card back with the others, smiling intently as he ordered them. "Be wary of him. His greed and avarice exceed even my own."_

_"I'll keep it in mind."_

_His job done, Axel turned and walked away, keeping his pace as steady and uncaring as he could manage. How was it that you only managed to notice how weird you walked when you were trying to act casual? _

_As if they had been eagerly awaiting this, the silk garbed ladies from before rushed back to their places around the other man's table, laughing and flirting as much as ever before. The British accent of the man's replies rung in Axel's ears as he walked crisply out the front doors once more. _

_He looked up at the sky, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The bright sky was inviting after the dim atmosphere and flashing lights of the casino. To his left, a high voice giggled. _

_He turned around lazily, facing the woman who had clearly been leaning against the wall waiting for him. He wasn't about to give her any satisfaction for surprising him, even it had been completely successful. She wore a selection of clothing that all seemed to be made of tight fitting leather, with short cut blonde hair. Two strands of it stuck out above the rest, curving back like horns above her head. She twirled a single pointed knife between her fingers as she smiled at him, a smile of amusement much akin to that of the blond man inside. Her face was doll shaped and exceedingly pretty - all except her eyes. Her eyes seemed to flash with an unworldly light as she watched Axel. _

_Axel swung his arms out to either side in what he hoped would be read as bored annoyance. He had had quite enough of people looking at him like that - a look that spoke of him being a mere pawn in a game he could not understand, for he was a simple commoner acting out the wishes of the mighty lord who commanded him. It was absolutely, one hundred percent infuriating. _

_"Your stupid job is done, Larxene," he said, with more than a little irritation seeping into his voice. _

_The woman straightened, her knife disappearing into a pocket somewhere as she folded her arms. _

_"Well done, Axel." She smiled, considering him with amusement. "The master will be most pleased to hear this."_

_She fished an envelope out of her pocket and held it out to him. Axel snatched it off her, causing Larxene to let out a shrill giggle. _

_"Now now, play nice." She turned and waved a hand over her shoulder as she walked away. "We'll expect to see you again soon."_

_Muttering to himself in pure annoyance, Axel strode off in the other direction. These people irritated him to the very core, but he simply had no choice. As much as he didn't want to, he would run their errands. For now. Soon they would give him what he wanted, then he would be gone, and no prissy rich people would be stopping him. _

_Out of curiosity he thumbed open the envelope. Inside was a piece of card, complete with gold painted lettering and gilded edges. Did absolutely everything these people touched have to be expensive? A simple blue would've looked absolutely fine. There was absolutely no reason for an invitation to sparkle so much, no matter whose invitation it was. Axel couldn't shake the feeling that just by holding the excessively decorated card he was somehow approving of their frivolity. It was fair enough, he supposed. He had come to them for help, not the other way around. He would just have to put up with it for a bit longer. _

_He scanned the invitation quickly, found a date, then tossed it carefully into the nearest trash can. Yes, he would put up with them until Sunday. After that, he would be gone. _

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Axel reached the hospital. He felt like death. No, he felt like what death felt like when it walked for two days straight with hardly any sleep inbetween. And then a bit more death. It didn't help that he almost walked right into someone on his way through the sliding doors. A great way to go unnoticed right there.

"Sorry," the purple haired man grunted as he walked around Axel. His blonde haired companion was looking at him worriedly as they left the lobby. Neither one had looked too closely at Axel's face, so he was free to not care even the tiniest bit.

He sunk down onto the couch in the hospital's lobby with a great inner sigh. It was so soft. He wanted to sleep right there and then. But no, that'd be just about as counter productive as he could get. He'd gone through all the trouble of changing his appearance, he wasn't going to ruin it now by having some miscellaneous hospital staff member come up and recognise him in his sleep. In all truth, it wasn't that much of a disguise. He'd tied his hair back and pulled his hood up, but he _hated _tying his hair back, so Axel figured that counted as a drastic measure. Everyone was looking for the 'spikey haired red head'. Hopefully no-one would notice the red head with a ponytail.

As if in response to his thoughts the receptionist looked at him, caught his eye, and quickly made her way over to the couch. Axel groaned. Being on the run the police was really more work than he was prepared for. Next time he lit a building on fire he was going to do it under an alias. Not that he had done it on purpose, but still. He'd always wondered what he would look like as a blonde. Probably terrible, but something about blonde hair tugged at his memory nonetheless.

The receptionist reached him and planted her fists on her hips, her black braids swinging wildly.

Axel looked up meekly, ready to face his imminent doom. It figured that he'd be caught while trying to check up on the very person he mortally injured in a freak accident. Fate was being awesome like that to him recently.

"Excuse me, sir." Here it comes. Axel was too tired to run. He'd go to jail if they'd just let him sleep there. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but hoods are not allowed inside the hospital."

Axel blinked. The surly receptionist thrust a finger towards the very large and very unmissable sign plastered on the wall that said exactly that. Apparently Axel had sat right in front of it.

"Oh, Sorry Ma'am." Axel pushed his hood back. He tried giving the middle aged woman a polite smile. She was having none of it. Luckily for Axel, he was saved from a stern telling off when a bubbly young woman came through the front doors.

"I'm back from my break now Lu! Thanks for covering me."

The receptionist turned her attention away from him, and Axel sunk into the couch in relief. A growling wasn't exactly being arrested, but it was still more than he wanted to deal with in his exhausted state.

Axel closed his eyes momentarily, mentally willing himself to feel better - just a little bit better - so he could get this over with and go. Just find out if the guy was okay and leave. That's all he came for. After this he could go find some shady motel that didn't keep up with the news and just sleep his exhaustion away. It was a great plan.

"Sir?"

Axel's head shot up. A few seconds more and he would have drifted off right there. It was technically a good thing that he hadn't, but he still felt a bit sour about missing out on even a glimpse of sleep.

The younger newly arrived receptionist was calling him over to the front desk. The surly middle aged one was nowhere in sight. That was fine by Axel. She hadn't exactly been the 'receptive' type of receptionist, even if she'd only been covering. Axel put it down to her hair style. There was just something about people with black braids. They were all crazy.

Axel got to his feet and joined the much nicer receptionist at her counter. She really was pleasant, with that smile and all. Axel's hair style theory was practically confirmed here too, not a single black braid in sight. Her hair was brown, and was curling off to either side in two rather sizable waves. Much better choice. Not blonde, but still good.

"What can I help you with sir?" she chirped melodically.

Axel leaned against the counter, calmly trying to recall what he had been going to say. He had prepared it earlier, memorised an entire heart breaking spiel, but he couldn't remember it for the life of him. He fell back on Plan B: spontaneity. Oddly enough, it was usually his Plan A as well. It was just that reliable.

"I was wondering if you could tell me if my friend's been in here," Axel said slowly, flashing a very half hearted smile. He did not want to smile, he wanted to throw himself back on the couch and sink into oblivion. But no, crazy man in the burning building first. _Then _oblivion. Yes.

"Does your friend have a name?" the chiming receptionist asked happily, tapping her keyboard a few times as she did so.

Axel paused. He knew the name. He still didn't know how, but he knew it.

"Roxas."

The receptionist gave him a flat look.

"Roxas Cain?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"Are you a fan?"

Axel blinked. A fan? Oh, great. His mysterious almost-rescuer had been someone famous. No wonder the police were having a field day with his face on wanted posters.

"No no," Axel said, quickly trying to find a way in which they'd actually tell him anything, "I'm uh... from out of town, you see. An old friend of Roxas." He paused, as if considering. "You say Roxas is famous now? Get outta here!"

The receptionist's smile widened.

"He sure is! Just about as famous you can get around here." There was something about the receptionist's cheery attitude that just made Axel feel better. Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad after all.

Then her face fell, and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh!" she cried, "I'm so sorry! You mustn't have heard. Roxas passed away two days ago."

Axel let his happy expression drop at the news. It wasn't very hard to act it, he felt it on the inside too. The man really had died trying to save him. A bubbling pit of awful was rising up in Axel's stomach. Roxas was dead.

The burst of sadness he was feeling was more than a little confusing. Sure, guilt would have been explainable, but sadness? Over some guy he didn't even know? In his line of work? Perhaps he was far more tired than he had previously thought. This was really getting to him.

The receptionist was making her condolences. To her credit, she sounded genuinely sympathetic. Perhaps Axel could use that to weasel out a few details.

"How did it happen?" he asked croakily. He hadn't even tried to do the croaky, but it worked. The receptionist was giving him such a sad look.

"He was in a fire," she said soothingly, "but it wasn't really the fire that killed him. He passed away of natural causes later in his sleep."

Axel tried very hard not to look shocked at that. The fire _hadn't _killed him? What?

"What do you mean?" he managed.

The girl quickly scanned the room before leaning a little closer. "I'm not really supposed to say this yet, what with the arsonist hunt and all," she said in a tone that hushed enough to be a whisper, "but Roxas was all set to heal from his fire injuries. The doctors said so themselves. He just needed a good rest. But then he went and," she caught herself whispering a bit too excitedly, decided it was completely inappropriate, and continued in a much more sombre tone, "then he passed away in the night. No-one was expecting that."

Axel wasn't sure how he felt about that. Did that mean he was off the hook? He hadn't killed the man after all. But then, why did he still feel so sad? He mentally kicked the sadness deeper into his mind. He'd worry about that later. Right now, he could just revel in the fact that he was not actually a murderer. A hunted arsonist perhaps, but not a murderer. It didn't quite explain how he knew this Roxas, but there was still time for that.

That also meant his time here at Pleasantview Hospital was done. He was free to go off and sleep somewhere. He opened his mouth to thank the receptionist.

"Ms Tilmitt."

The voice had come from the other side of the room, by the elevator. The receptionist shot up attentively as the deep voiced man - apparently her boss - gave her instructions for while he was out.

Axel turned his head to see the man. Or men, it seemed. There were two of them. Axel froze. Then he very, _very _slowly turned his head back the other way. In complete contrast, Axel's thoughts were flailing out in a complete panic. _WHAT THE HELL WAS SAIX DOING HERE?_

Being very careful not to attract the attention of either of the two men, Axel casually pulled his hood back over his head, slow enough that it wouldn't catch anyone's eye. He did not move after that. He feared to even breathe. If Saïx even _suspected _that Axel was right in front of him, all hell would break loose. Maybe the entire hospital would burn down. And for what? He had no idea what game Saïx was playing at here.

The deep voiced man finished his orders for the receptionist and soon swept out of the building without even a pause. Axel waited until he heard the doors slide shut behind them before inching his head around to make sure they were gone. They were. Axel breathed out.

He spoke his rushed thanks to the receptionist and made his way to the doors as well. Once outside, he paused, scanning the parking lot quickly. His eyes latched onto a flash of blue hair just before it vanished inside a car. A very rich looking car. Clearly not Saïx's car.

Axel made sure his hood was hiding his face as the car pulled out and drove past. He took special care in reading the number plate. At the very least, perhaps now he had a lead on who these 'others' were that Saïx had betrayed him for. Saïx had always had a thing for power, and if he had been telling even a hint of the truth, then this big shot hospital guy was far more than just a simple businessman.

There was something abnormal going on here. Or was it more than just abnormal? Supernatural? Axel barely had to recall the spontaneous fire that he had caused to know that much, but if Axel could do that, and Saïx had ditched him for someone more powerful...

This was clearly more than he was cut out for. Fleeing town, now _there_ was a plan.

Axel turned to walk in the opposite direction than the car had gone. Then something clicked into place. This Roxas had rushed in to save Axel from his own supernatural fire. Then he had been rushed here, to the hospital, where he was set to heal from his non-mortal wounds. Next, Roxas was dead, in the very building where Saïx's supernatural new best friend was the big cheese.

Axel felt a creeping sensation spreading across his shoulders. He hated that feeling. The feeling that he was running away from responsibility. He could fight it, sure, but he had just cleared his conscience of murder and he wasn't exactly wanting to heap up the guilt again anytime soon. Besides, he owed it to himself to figure out just what the hell was going on here. Hopefully he could manage it before he got himself killed in the process.

He had very few choices, and he didn't particularly like any of them. He'd been to Pleasantview before, a long time ago now, but the memory was still fresh in his mind. He would do things differently this time around, do things the right way.

He would head to the Pleasantview Casino. After sleep, of course. Sleep first, then the Casino of Doom. It was just about as solid a plan as he was going to get.

* * *

For the thousandth time that week, Kairi wondered whether she should call her sister. She quickly decided against it, just like every other time. It didn't seem fair only to call her now that she had a problem. It was an inexplicably odd problem for sure, but it wasn't exactly the right motive for breaking a long held silence. She could just imagine how that'd go down. Knowing her twin sister the way she did, things'd end up even worse than they were at the moment, and that wasn't exactly what Kairi was going for.

She settled on the internet. It was the solution to all her problems, it always was. It was also the cause of a fair number of them, but who was she to judge? She lived with _Sora. _It wasn't exactly the best choice for anyone who seriously wanted to retain their sanity.

But there she was, thinking about Sora again, and that was exactly what she was trying to avoid.

Kairi turned her thoughts to the computer screen. She stared at it for a while, unsure of just how it was supposed to distract her. The search for the PLFA had ended just as soon as it had begun. Kairi didn't exactly know what they had to do with anything at the moment, but it was the only real lead she had in solving the situation. Apparently they weren't a registered law firm, or even a company of any kind. They didn't even have a website. Who didn't have a website these days? Kairi herself had a dozen. Half a dozen. Well, four. That was _practically_ half a dozen. Admittedly a good three of them were actually for her sister's artwork, which was far better than anything Kairi even hoped to ever achieve.

With a grimace, Kairi swivelled away from the computer screen. Therein was her infernal dilemma. Her thoughts were cycling between the two things she was trying her hardest not to think about, and it was infuriating. Well, if she had to pick between thinking about Namine and thinking about Sora, she would pick Sora. At least _he _wasn't ignoring her at the moment.

And so Kairi found Sora in the lounge, staring out the window at nothing in particular. It'd been a rough couple of days for all of them, but for him in particular. Well, possibly harder for Riku, but she didn't know what his case was yet, so she stuck with Sora for the moment. He had worried himself to death over Riku's sudden disappearance, completely freaked out when it was clear that something weird was going on, and sunk into total depression when Riku had reappeared but wouldn't speak a word to him. It would have been hard to handle even if Sora hadn't been madly in love with the guy. Not that he'd admitted it, possibly not even to himself, but that was Sora for you. Kairi could read him like a book. Not that it was hard of course, this was Sora, when it came to emotions he was practically a technicolour picture book

Kairi herself was supposed to be currently checking the internet for anything that might help the situation. It'd been a dead end. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting really. The internet, being what the internet was, had been quick to advise her that it had probably been aliens that had abducted Riku. Or ninjas. Or the antichrist. Or maybe even the time travelling Spartans, recently spotted in a nearby town. Kairi was quite honestly left wondering why Sora hadn't long since started living in the internet. It was exactly the kind of stuff he was constantly obsessed with.

Usually anyway. Now he was the opposite of everything a Sora was. Kairi supposed it was time she tried to fix it. She always ended up trying to fix these things, and it usually worked. Usually.

She took a step into the room. Sora immediately whipped his head around. For a moment, he was smiling. Then he saw that it was her and went back to whatever dreary thoughts he had been summoning out the window. Kairi smiled despite herself. Like a _book_.

"Hey Sora," Kairi said softly. She stood next to him. He didn't react for a moment.

"Hey," was his eventual response. Oh yes, Anti-Sora was in full force here.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

Kairi went to press the issue, but she caught sight of a piece of card Sora was holding in his hand. Kairi assumed it was the creepy lawyer's card from yesterday. Then she saw it was the wrong colour entirely. Her hands twitched.

Withholding her curiosity had never been one of her strong points.

"What's that?"

When Sora saw what she was pointing to, his face froze.

"Uh..." he even forgot to look depressed as he tried to shove it in his pocket. "It's nothing."

"Okay," Kairi said sweetly. She waited for Sora to go back to looking out the window. She counted to ten.

Kairi threw her hand into Sora's pocket, snatching the card before he even had a chance to react. That didn't stop him from reacting straight after though.

"Hey!"

He tried to grab it off her, but she danced out of reach and read it quickly. It was vastly disappointing. Kairi let Sora snatch it back off her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Uh." Sora unconsciously started tugging on a strand of his hair with a very clear emotion practically screaming off his face. Guilt. "You remember that guy with the belts?"

"The one at the door?"

Sora nodded.

Kairi fumed.

"_You took his number?" _

Sora, in all his idiotic wisdom, at least had the modesty to look ashamed of himself. Wait, the man had come last night. If Sora had the thing in his hand now ...

"Tell me you didn't call him."

Sora didn't answer, opting to turn scarlet instead. Kairi wanted to hit him. She wanted to scream and yell and throw things, big heavy things, namely Sora, out the window.

"Sora, you do _not _call crazy people who give you their numbers. Especially ones that know where you live," Kairi managed to say rather calmly. Well, calm compared to how she felt. It probably came out as more of a hiss.

"Yeah...About that."

Sora told her that the crazy people were coming to their house tomorrow, and that he had invited them. Kairi felt like Sora should be melting from the look she was giving him. She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

Then she left the room.

Okay, so talking to Sora had been a bad idea.

Kairi's anger melted as she took a deep breath. She would just go out tomorrow afternoon, and stay out until Sora's insane stalker friends had left. That way she wouldn't have to deal with them. There, problem solved. She washed her hands of the issue and mentally erased it from her memory. Oh, if only memory actually worked that way.

On a whim, Kairi let herself into Riku's room, not even bothering to knock on the door. He looked up at her, silver hair messier than she'd ever seen it. Riku may or may not have wiped the corner of his eye as she walked in. It was quite frankly too dark to see.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

Kairi turned and left. She wasn't going to waste her thoughts on anyone else who didn't want her help today. She had better things to do.

Yet when she reached her room, Kairi was completely unsure as to what these 'better things' were. Unbidden, her eyes flicked over to the computer screen. Was that all she really had to do these days? She deliberately walked straight past it and sat on her bed, picking up the phone as she did so. Yes, she would call someone. She had friends other than the idiotic morons she lived with, of course she did.

For a long moment Kairi tried to think of who she would call. Namine came to mind. Kairi felt like screaming again.

What she needed was a puzzle. Yes, a puzzle. Any puzzle. It was her tried and true method of keeping calm no matter how extreme the situation was. She glanced at the computer screen for help. She had left her search for the PLFA open. Sure, why not.

One of the great benefits of being Kairi was her photographic memory. She could still remember the shady lawyer's calling card as clear as if it was still right in front of her right at that moment. Kairi had thought she'd tried everything in her search to find out who these people were, but there was one detail she had overlooked. The phone number.

She dialed it.

Kairi drummed her fingers as she waited for the mysterious organization to pick up. A small voice in her head was hissing at her what she had just said to Sora._ You do not call crazy people who give you their numbers, especially ones that know where you live. _She ignored it.

Kairi heard someone pick up, but they didn't say anything.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Ah, good evening," the slick voice spoke back at her, "I'm afraid I wasn't expecting any calls after hours." The man paused after that. Kairi wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't say anything. The man continued. "May I ask who is speaking?"

"Kairi."

Kairi sat straight up. She had not intended to say any such thing. She most certainly had not intended to tell the _clearly _fake and shady 'lawyer' who knew _exactly _where she lived her _name_. But there it was, she had said it, against all her will and logic.

"Kairi Smith," she said quickly, trying to salvage her dignity by giving a false surname.

"Ah, nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Smith," the smooth speaker sounded all too pleased with himself for Kairi's liking. She bit her lip in frustration. What had she been _thinking? _"If you don't mind, I may have to ask you to call back during business hours. Have a pleasant eveni-"

"Wait! Who are you?" Kairi yelled, throwing all self restraint out the window. The phone merely beeped at her uselessly. The man had hung up.

Kairi wanted to scream again.


	8. Chapter 8

I feel obliged to put a little warning label of sorts here. This is the part where the romance side of the story starts to ebb its way in, and a few of these will involve both parties being male. If the thought of this scares or angers you beyond reason, there is a little button that says "Back" just up at the top of the page. Alternatively, there is a "Review" button down the bottom where you can leave nasty scathing reviews in your raging anger. You know, either one : )

But to the wonderful majority of normal people who want to keep reading, HELLO! For some reason it didn't take me five months to write the chapter, so we can all breathe easily once again. A major thank you written in the clouds goes to BlueAcidRain for being amazing and having epic Beta powers. She also has fanfics up herself, so I heartily encourage the reading of them. GO GO GO. Thanks also gets sent out to luckless-is-me and doomshuriken for swiftly replying after such a long delay. Reviewing is good : D I encourage that as well. That is all.

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**Next Life - Chapter 8**

Demyx wandered idly through the aisles of the supermarket. With shopping list in hand, he was keeping a close eye out for the plethora of downright strange objects Zexion had asked for. Apparently Zexion had been entirely serious about Demyx having too much sugary food in his house, and everything he had asked for was thus completely, sickeningly healthy. It was by far the worst shopping list Demyx had ever encountered.

Awful or not, Demyx was somewhat determined to actually get everything on the list. Zexion was moving in – a fact that still excited Demyx to no end – and so he very much wanted to give his guest every reason to actually stick around. Still, what on earth would someone want Corn Oil for? Corn had never seemed particularly oily to Demyx, so he was somewhat confused as to how anyone would even make the stuff.

Nearing the end of the inventory Demyx soon found himself in the refrigerated section, and so once again checked the almighty list of awful food choices.

_Milk _

With a grin, Demyx's hand darted towards the chocolate milk, but then froze once he registered the rest of Zexion's notation.

_Milk – __Not__ chocolate milk_

Demyx frowned for a moment, weighing up his options. Then he grabbed both kinds, smiling to himself in the process. There, now everyone was happy.

Most of the other items on the shopping list had informative notations like that too; next to _Bread _was a very detailed account on which brand had the highest nutritional value compared to value for money, _Bottled Water _had a small table of chlorine to water ratios, and _Fruit _was heavily underlined, accompanied by an incredibly lengthy description on how to recognise which ones were ripe and which ones were absolutely not to be 'accidentally' forgotten. Demyx was almost baffled by the whole insistence on fruit thing. He'd always assumed them to be the trophy food of the kitchen, the one that people proudly displayed in bowls on the counter but never actually ate. But there you go, apparently Zexion wanted to _eat _bananas. Go figure.

In a very gleeful detour down the confectionary aisle – the one place that the list very heavily suggested that Demyx should avoid altogether – Demyx started to hear voices. After quickly dismissing the idea that the gummi bears were indeed talking to him, Demyx stopped moving to hear a little better. Apparently the people in the next aisle over had decided that there was no better place to discuss current events around town than in the soup section. To each their own, he supposed. Demyx settled down to eavesdrop.

"Did you hear," one mysteriously voiced individual was asking excitedly, "about P&P Laboratories?"

"The one run by the twins?" the other voice responded.

"Yeah! A whole bunch of people were rushed to hospital from there last night."

"No way! What happened?"

"It was some sort of freak hurricane, but only on the inside."

"_Inside _the laboratory?"

"Yaha. With all these weird ground cracks as well."

"Oh that's nothing. Have you _seen _what's been happening at that castle? You know, the one just south of the suburbs?"

"Yonder Castle?"

"Yeah! Over at Yonder Castle, there've been sightings of this huge beast thing."

"Oh! Speaking of beasts, did you hear about Cid?"

"Wait, Principle Cid or Air Pilot Cid?"

"Um, neither. Regent Cid."

"Regent Cid? He's my favourite! What happened to Regent Cid?"

What had happened to Regent Cid, however, Demyx never got to hear, as he was immediately distracted by the person who had just walked into his aisle. With his long ponytailed black hair, unmistakably streaked with grey, there was no way Demyx could have missed Xigbar in any situation.

Right now Demyx had a bone to pick with Xigbar. He'd walked right past Demyx at the hospital yesterday and hadn't even so much as _looked _in his direction. It was intensely rude, and completely uncalled for. Well, unless Xigbar was pissed at him for ditching him at the coffee place the other day, but _apart _from that there was absolutely no reason for him to flat out ignore Demyx. Catching Xigbar's eye, Demyx took a step forward.

Before he could get any closer, Xigbar hurriedly turned around and near ran out of the aisle, quickly heading off to the left.

_Oh no you don't. _

Demyx hurriedly placed his shopping basket down on the floor before quickly taking off down the aisle in the direction Xigbar had disappeared. He made it half way across the distance before skidding to a halt, turning to face the shelves of miscellaneous food items. Right there, in the small gap between the boxes of cereal, Demyx could see into the next aisle. Currently leaning right up against the shelves of said other aisle was a very dishevelled ponytail of black hair, clearly striped with grey. Hiding, was he?

Fending off the extreme desire to tug on the ponytail, Demyx leant close up to the aisle and put on his very best whisper voice.

"Xigbar. I can see you."

If it could be said that a stationary man could get any stiller, Xigbar did. Then he spun around, all smiles and enthusiasm once more.

"Hey! Kiddo! Totally didn't see you there!"

Demyx didn't buy it, not one bit.

"You're nuts. Why would you avoid me, of all people?" Demyx hissed through the cereal boxes. Try as he might, it just didn't feel right to talk at a normal volume when addressing boxes of food, so fierce whispers would just have to do.

"Uh, don't even know what you're talkin' bout!" Xigbar laughed nervously, clearly not having the same issue with volume Demyx was. "I was just uh... I really needed some of these!" Xigbar's hand shot out, grabbing the nearest reachable product.

Demyx blinked.

"You ran down this aisle for...those?" Xigbar nodded in response. "For pantyhose?"

The colour drained from Xigbar's face as he finally glanced at what he had picked up. He was silent for a very long moment before speaking again.

"Uh, look!" he cried, pointing dramatically with pantyhose in hand. "Behind you! A distraction!"

Despite himself, Demyx spun around, caught up in the dramatic tone of Xigbar's voice. Of course, there was nothing there, but before he could turn back around his hands flat out started vibrating.

A low rush of blood seemed to roar through his ears, and as he spun back around to face Xigbar, Xigbar was gone, pantyhose and all.

The vibrating quickly subsided. Demyx was left staring at his hands. They felt slightly numb.

His mind quickly raced past that minor inconvenience and eagerly tried to figure out what was going on with Xigbar. Running off like that, in the middle of a conversation. Odd how he hadn't made any noise when he left, but Demyx supposed he'd been too distracted to notice. Xigbar was really racking up a list of things for Demyx to be pissed about lately.

With an exasperated click of his tongue, Demyx stalked back to his shopping basket and bent to pick it up. He got exactly to the point where his hand had grabbed the basket's handle when his hand did its weird little vibrating thing once again. There was a slow moment where Demyx wondered whether he should continue picking up his basket or not, but when nothing happened he slowly straightened and quickly left the aisle. Perhaps he was having... uh... sugar withdrawal symptoms, or something? Yeah, that'd do for now.

Yet as Demyx drove home from the supermarket, he couldn't help but wonder if the entire world was going crazy around him. Xigbar was acting just about as suspicious as ever, Zexion had some secret background plot that he hadn't quite explained yet, and Demyx had just not been able to reason out the whole 'dancing coffee' scenario he'd been landed in the other day. Everything was nuts, absolutely completely nuts. With a grim nod at nothing in particular, Demyx decided it was time that the universe was going to get a strict talking to. He would figure one of these things out. He would completely reason out just _one _of the things on his crazy list and shame the strange occurrences straight back into their little hidey hole in the bottom of the ocean - or wherever their normal choice of residence may happen to be.

Xigbar wasn't exactly going to be easy to get a hold of, and Demyx had absolutely no idea where to start on spontaneously floating hot drinks, so he settled on Zexion. He smiled despite himself.

And so, Demyx soon found himself sitting on the couch in his lounge, very patiently waiting for Zexion to come out of the shower. In truth, he wasn't very good at the whole 'patient' thing but, try as he might, he'd never managed to have a proper conversation with anyone in the shower before. Which perhaps explained why he loved baths so much more, but that was very much besides the point.

What was _not _besides the point, however, was just how much weird junk Zexion was going to have to explain. They hadn't talked much on the way back from the hospital yesterday, and Zexion had quickly gone to bed far before the sun had gone down, so this was the first chance Demyx was getting to discuss the sudden jumping-out-of-thin-air routine he'd pulled there. There was also the whole turning-up-at-your-house-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing, as well as the sneaking-into-work-for-reasons-I-didn't-explain, _and _the I-finished-off-your-favourite-cereal-but-didn't-replace-it-like-a-normal-person-would situation. That was a _lot _of explaining.

As he casually watched his beloved goldfish swim around in circles, Demyx gently admitted that if anyone else had strung up so many missteps in just two days he'd probably be furious with them beyond measure. Xigbar was proving an excellent example for that, whom he was most certainly _very _miffed at, but Zexion? No, he definitely wasn't angry at the guy. He just... wanted a few answers. Answers that he very much thought he deserved.

The reason _why _he wasn't even the slightest bit mad at Zexion was a little harder to answer. After a long moment of elegant fish observing, Demyx put it down to Zexion just plain being the person he enjoyed having around the most. The past few years had left Demyx with considerably fewer solid friends than he would have liked, but that was a subject he very much did not want to think about.

Demyx was saved from his own thoughts when Zexion finally walked into the room. Of course, the manner in which Zexion entered into the room sent all his carefully planned questions flying out the door.

Zexion had paused at the door upon seeing Demyx, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks – the blush undoubtedly stemming from the fact that he had a towel around his waist and absolutely nothing else on his person.

Demyx gulped.

With a fierce determination, Demyx kept his eyes locked exactly with Zexion's, flat out refusing to look anywhere else. The plan worked precisely until Zexion himself looked away, leaving Demyx's eyes to immediately disobey him. Zexion seemed the same as he'd ever been; thin, with the impression of lankiness despite his short height. It had always been much more obvious once he had his shirt off, but it managed to look good on Zexion nonetheless. That, combined with his oh-so-wonderfully flat stomach and soft looking skin had always been somewhat of a point of envy for Demyx while growing up, but now…

Something was rising inside Demyx, something that definitely, _definitely _wasn't envy. A faint fluttering feeling, somewhere in his chest. In sheer horror Demyx pushed it away. Pushed it away and set it on fire, and buried it deep underground. But it sat there, still taunting him from beyond the grave, every bit as obvious as Demyx did not want it to be.

Mentally refusing to acknowledge it any further whatsoever, Demyx got to his feet and smiled at Zexion. He didn't quite trust himself to say anything about his current state of attire, so just avoided mentioning it altogether.

"Um. I have a few questions I need to ask you." Demyx's eyes ran down Zexion's chest again before quickly snapping back up to meet his eyes once more. "Uh, you know, when you have clothes on." Demyx was very hurriedly trying to prevent his cheeks going red. He wasn't succeeding, but he did try.

Zexion simply nodded before walking past him into the kitchen. It was all Demyx could do not to watch him walk as he did even that. Then he recalled with a jolt that the kitchen was indeed where they had left the majority of Zexion's clothes the day before. Knowing Zexion, he'd probably just grab the required garments before modestly getting dressed in the guest bedroom as was proper, but the faint possibility that he might just be getting dressed in the kitchen rose to mind nonetheless. Immediately infuriated with himself for wanting to peek in just in case, Demyx stormed off down the hallway.

Only when he was safely in his bedroom and behind a solid door did Demyx allow his mind to linger on the thoughts he'd been avoiding. He had rather truthfully assumed that he'd gotten rid of this issue before, but here it was again, threatening to pull up his entire past with it. Any other guy would have been fine, _any _other guy, but Demyx just could not afford to have any sort of attraction to the one guy in the world that actually trusted him as much as he did.

The deep blue walls of his room hardly held the safety they usually did; now they just gave the impression of drowning. Demyx wasn't entirely partial to flashbacks, but the thoughts came unbidden anyway, and escaping them was impossible.

It had been a day not terribly unlike this one, with both Zexion and himself mucking around his house after classes one day. Demyx couldn't quite remember how he'd done it, but he'd managed to walk in on Zexion without a shirt on, just like today. They'd both taken it completely in stride, neither even flinching as they both settled down to watch whatever it had been on television.

It had all gone swimmingly well until Demyx had found himself paying far more attention to Zexion's half nakedness than to the television, and so started the onslaught of curious self dilemmas and revelations that had plagued Demyx for the next following months. He'd managed to come to grips with it all eventually, admittedly slowly, but still finally realising where his heart lay. That was, until Zexion had brought it all crashing home with a completely innocent question.

"Hey Demyx."

"Yeah?"

"Are you gay?"

Demyx's middle had roared in turmoil. He'd been both ecstatic and completely terrified out his mind; much more of the latter than the former. His mind had tried to speak sense to him, telling him that this was the chance he'd been waiting for for so long, and that he should make the most of it. He had very much agreed with it.

But then, one look at Zexion had been all it'd taken for his resolve to melt completely. The words had risen to his mouth, and he'd trembled. Sweat had seemed to pour from every inch of him. The look in Zexion's eyes had just been too much for him to face. Could he really face the judgement of Zexion? No, he couldn't. He couldn't handle that. His fear took over and his mind had fled.

"No."

And that was that. The sinking feeling of complete and utter failure had engulfed him.

Zexion just nodded. That was the worst part about it. A simple nod that said he would have done the same for the other answer, for the answer Demyx so badly wanted to admit but just could not find the courage in himself to do so.

Demyx had never forgiven himself for that. For not being able to tell his closest friend the one thing that practically haunted him more than any other. He'd mentally beaten himself up over it continuously until finally accepting that he was a coward, and that the chance of anything happening between them was just about as farfetched as anything could get.

After accepting the impossibility of it all, he'd managed to move on and forget that it had ever happened- or at least, he had thought he had, but here he was again, proving himself wrong.

Back in the present, Demyx's head spun around as Zexion entered the room – clothed, thankfully. With a rather casual glance around the room, Zexion walked over and sat on Demyx's bed, as it was quite clearly the only part of the room that wasn't entirely covered in one type of junk or another. After a second of hesitation, Demyx strode over and joined him, letting his thoughts wash away from his mind as he remembered just what he was going to ask him. Everything else could wait, this stuff was actually important.

"Zex," Demyx began, "I don't mean to sound sceptical but... on the night you turned up here. What were you running from?"

It was touchy ground, he knew, but he really needed to know, so he waited. Waited, and desperately hoped he wouldn't be losing a crucial friendship over prying too much.

Not that it was an effortless friendship as such. They weren't entirely alike. Zexion was very... stern, at times. He was prone to frowning a lot and gave a good amount of flat looks. He also had this way of seeming to be stoically enduring a situation rather than enjoying it, but Demyx had known him long enough to gain a certain familiarity with his attitudes. It was easy enough for him to decipher what Zexion was meaning most of the time, and there were a plethora of things they could laugh about with each other. Zexion wasn't very prone to laughing with a great deal of people.

"I killed Roxas."

Demyx frowned. So it had just been guilt over a lost patient after all? Well, that was disappointing. No stunning revelations there.

"The receptionist said you shouldn't blame yourse-" Zexion was shaking his head, so Demyx stopped.

"I _killed _Roxas. I pulled out his life support."

Demyx's train of thought skidded to a halt.

"...like, accidentally?"

"We were having an argument. I ...might have meant it."

A chill spread throughout Demyx. Zexion had killed Roxas on purpose. The logical part of his brain was telling him to recoil from him completely- to run away and never look back.

Yet one look at the dishevelled lump that was Zexion was all it took to know that he was crumbling on the inside. Zexion regretted it more than anything else in his entire life, and it was written plainly across the pain in his face. Demyx didn't know whether he himself would have been able to handle that amount of guilt.

_Well, you got what you asked for_.Demyx grimaced and told the cynical voice in the back of his mind to shut the hell up. It obediently did so.

But the heavy repercussions of the situation hung heavy in the air. Roxas Cain had been killed by the closest friend Demyx had. And here he was, sitting in the same room as a murderer. That thought stung. Demyx immediately wanted to un-think it. This was Zexion.

Demyx looked at him sadly. Yes, this was definitely Zexion, and there was no way he'd be abandoning him, not even now. Demyx told himself that it wasn't just the faint attraction talking there – which was absolutely true. Zexion meant a lot to Demyx, and Demyx was going to stick by him, attraction or no attraction.

But this was not the time for that. Right now was about Zexion, and the poor guy needed him. Demyx had to say something.

He leant over and put his arm around Zexion's shoulder, pulling him slightly closer. Instantly Zexion leant into him, seeking comfort in the simple act that very likely said everything Demyx wanted to say and more. Zexion was shaking, ever so slightly. Demyx felt pangs of guilt, alongside sizable parades of joy, but he mostly just felt sorry for the guy. His heart went out to him, it really did.

After a moment he spoke to him softly.

"It wasn't your fault, you know."

Zexion tensed, but otherwise didn't respond. It was probably just as well, as Demyx knew he'd be objecting fiercely in his mind and feeling the empty blame a thousand fold. Trying to explain that away was not going to help, not right now, but as long as he knew that Demyx was on his side... well, that would have to be enough.

A thought struck Demyx suddenly. One that made him sweat.

"Does anyone know?" Little good his support would be if someone ferreted Zexion off to prison right out from under his nose.

"No," was the simple answer. Then he sat up slowly, and Demyx took his arm away. Once he was upright again, Zexion was silent for a good moment. Then his eyes closed as he cringed.

"No, wait. I think my boss knows."

Demyx couldn't see himself right then, but his mouth had just dropped right open.

"Your _boss_ knows?"

"Yeah," Zexion mumbled dismally. "I think he knew from the very start." He met Demyx's eyes then. "He hasn't told anyone, and I don't think he will."

Demyx mulled this over a bit. He didn't know much about Zexion's boss, but it was a pretty big stretch of trust.

"You're sure?"

Zexion was silent, but eventually nodded.

"He's up to... something. I'm not sure what, but it freaks me out."

After a short span of silence, Demyx put his hand on Zexion's shoulder. He knew it wasn't entirely necessary, but he wanted to anyway.

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out."

Demyx had, of course, simply meant it as generic encouragement, but the sudden shine in Zexion's eyes clearly indicated that he had taken it as something else entirely.

"You want to help?" Zexion asked, as if not quite believing. Demyx grinned and nodded. Grinning was what he was good at after all, and there was no way someone could misinterpret a grin.

"Course! It's practically what I'm here for."

Zexion seemed rather pleased by that. He wasn't smiling as such, but he was sitting a little straighter, and there was a little more heart in his voice.

"Then there's something I should tell you," Zexion said. He spoke rather quickly, as if letting out a flood of things he'd been mulling over at length. "Whether I meant to or not, I think Xemnas may have wanted Roxas dead. But he didn't tell anyone, and he's kept it a secret, so I think he might want something out of me as well." Demyx wondered if Zexion knew just how dangerous that sounded right there. "Xemnas is also leading the search for that arsonist, the one that put Roxas in hospital." Zexion frowned then. "I... don't know what the connection is, but he's up to something."

"And that's why we went hauling ass up to the hospital yesterday?"

Zexion looked a little sheepish, but nodded.

"I don't suppose this has anything to do with the disappearing act you pulled at the hospital as well does it?" Demyx asked. When Zexion glanced at him questioningly, Demyx re-iterated his point. "Poof!" He made the appropriate hand motions. Amazingly, Zexion understood. He looked at the ground, then back to Demyx, his eyes working fiercely as if he hadn't quite finished his thoughts and was reluctant to interrupt them by speaking.

"It's possible, I suppose. I never thought of that..."

Demyx let Zexion fall into silence as his thoughts raced. Demyx's own thoughts bounced rather mildly around the room. So, Zexion's boss was some major evil genius, plotting something sinister from behind the scenes. And _may _have somehow turned Zexion invisible for a brief moment. Or something.

Then a thought struck Demyx, and he felt a pang of guilt. Zexion was being very straightforward about all of this, and Demyx had completely neglected to tell him about his own little insane episode just a few days previous.

"Um," Demyx said. Zexion looked at him calmly. Demyx knew this was going to sound crazy. "So, like, I didn't think this was anything at first, but the other day my coffee _may _have floated out of its cup." Zexion was still looking at him. Demyx suddenly felt just a little bit like an idiot. "Uh, you know, just on the subject of crazy supernatural things..."

Zexion certainly looked sceptical about that connection, but he nodded nonetheless. "It very well could be connected somehow."

Feeling somewhat of a twat, Demyx fell back on directing the conversation away from himself. "Ah, well, whatever it is, I know you'll figure it out."

"I plan to," was Zexion's response. Demyx frowned for a moment. Zexion was pretty serious about this little mystery that was going on. He just hoped he wasn't still acting out of guilt.

"You know that finding out won't bring Roxas back, right?"

Zexion nodded.

"And you know that it might only make things worse?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm in."

Zexion turned to him then, a very faint curve of his lips showing a gracious smile.

Demyx didn't need the guilt to tell him that most people in his predicament wouldn't quite go that far. Zexion was just damn lucky that Demyx had an inescapable homosexual crush on him.

"Well," Zexion mused aloud, "I suppose, if we're going to try link Xemnas' intentions with recent supernatural phenomenon, we'll have to start collecting data."

"Oh! No sweat, I got that covered." Demyx beamed. Zexion looked at him expectantly. "Well, the other day... you know, the day I went out with Xigbar? There was this thing on the road kinda like... um. Well, I didn't _really _see it, but this kid..."

Zexion's unamused look made Demyx stop in his tracks.

"Oh!" he sped onwards, determined not to sound like an idiot twice in a row, "But this morning... um." Demyx tried not to feel immediately disheartened by Zexion's frown. He threw his mind out, trying to grasp what he'd overheard at the supermarket. He tried pretty hard, but he couldn't remember a single word. What had they been discussing? Things about... the town... "Uh, do we have today's newspaper?"

Clearly Zexion wasn't expecting anything helpful in a place so obvious, but sure enough, after Demyx had dragged him through the house to the kitchen bench there was something right there on the front page.

"See! Right there! 'Science Mayhem Leaves Three Seriously Injured'." Demyx scanned the article, searching for anything that jumped out at him. "'Heavy signs of wind damage,' 'gaping holes in the floor,' blah blah Xemnas blah blah blah," Demyx quoted dramatically and looked up at Zexion. From the colour draining out of Zexion's face, Demyx knew he'd hit gold. Or a deer. Gold would've been more useful, but Zexion was starting to look sick.

"Uh, you okay?"

"It said Xemnas?"

Demyx nodded.

"Can I see it?" Zexion asked, a trifle hesitantly. Demyx obediently handed him the newspaper and watched him read fiercely. He made a point of trying not to notice what colour his eyes were.

"Wait, that's..." Zexion looked at him, wide-eyed. Blue. Zexion had blue eyes. A silvery blue that stood out against his soft, soft hair. "Demyx, do you remember those people at the hospital yesterday?"

Demyx curiously glanced at what Zexion was gesturing at. The picture for the article featured a whole bunch of unconscious people on stretchers being pushed towards an ambulance. They had pretty crazy hair for a group of scientists. One had short curly hair, another had a whole bunch of black braids, the third had a black ponytail streaked... with grey?

"Oh!" Demyx cried out once more, shocking Zexion in the process. "Yes! Yesterday at the hospital, Xigbar was there with that random group of people."

Zexion had a considering look on his face.

"Xigbar, as in, pirate guy?"

"Yeah!"

"The one who was talking to that one guy outside your house?" Demyx could see where he was going with this; that lawyer who'd been out on the footpath, and Zexion had been immediately suspicious. From memory, he'd had black braids...

Demyx blinked, then looked back at the newspaper. Just as he'd recalled, one of the men on the stretchers had the same style of hair. Demyx very carefully tried to puzzle out what this all meant.

He failed.

"I don't get it." Demyx looked to Zexion imploringly.

Zexion nodded acceptingly, willing to help Demyx connect the dots. It was quite an achievement really, Zexion wasn't very well suffering towards people he deemed idiots.

"So," Zexion began, gesturing with his hands to emphasise, "Xigbar comes to our-..." Zexion paused with a frown before starting over. "Xigbar comes to your house, talks to Mysterious Stranger outside. We then see Xigbar with the same mysterious stranger at the hospital-"

"-and he completely ignores me."

Zexion nodded and continued. "Right, he remains circumspect. Next, Xigbar and same group of strangers are in the newspaper, injured by some unexplained phenomenon. Where do they get rushed to?" Zexion pointed to a single word in the article. "The hospital, run by Maximillion Xemnas, who conveniently provides a cover up story."

Demyx digested that slowly. He _supposed _it was pretty suspicious, especially when added to the whole Roxas situation. And the floating coffee. And the invisibility. He grimly wondered whether Xemnas was just a twisted maniac who was trying to kill off everyone with an 'x' in their nam-

A thought hit Demyx. It must have shown on his face, as Zexion was watching him with anticipation.

"The newspaper says it happened last night, right?" Zexion nodded in response. "I saw Xigbar this morning. He was fine."

Demyx was half expecting an 'Are you sure?' but no, Zexion accepted it as simple fact. He looked down at the newspaper with a frown.

"Just what is going on here?" he mumbled.

Demyx wished he had some amazing theory to suggest, but he quite simply had no idea either. He had every bit of faith that Zexion would probably figure it out. Zexion was a genius, and Demyx couldn't really compete with him in that area. What he could do, though, was keep things simple. Sometimes it really was the obvious answer that was the correct one, and Zexion had mentioned his habit of overlooking the obvious enough times by now that Demyx clung to it as the one thing he might be able to help with.

"Let's summarise," Demyx said with determination, and felt another small flutter when Zexion looked at him attentively. "The stuff we _do _know might be important." Demyx held up his fingers and ticked them off as he went. "Xemnas is behind a whole bunch of random things. Xigbar and Team Crazy are running around doing stuff with him. It can't be anything good, since it involves Roxas Cain being thoroughly dead. It can't be anything normal, since it seems to involve the supernatural in some way or another. And," Demyx paused. The last one was the hardest one to admit. "And noting said supernatural things, it definitely involves us."

They both lapsed into silence as they considered just what that meant. Demyx was done pretty quickly, and soon shifted into just plain watching Zexion. He blushed slightly when Zexion looked up at him again.

"What day of the week is it?" Zexion asked.

Demyx glanced over at his calendar. "Thursday?" His eye caught on the date. He looked back at Zexion with excitement. "And tomorrow is-"

"The Masquerade Ball. At the hospital no less." Demyx was taken aback when Zexion suddenly started smiling. He didn't smile all too often. "They'll all be there, and we're going too. We'll have the perfect opportunity to try figure this out." He looked straight into Demyx's eyes then. "Whatever it is they're doing, we're on the way to figuring it out. Demyx, I think we're finally on the right track."

Demyx gulped. He could die happy watching Zexion smile like that. He truly could.

Of course, the smile did not last very long. Half a minute, to be precise; the exact amount of time it took Zexion to pour a drink of milk, take a sip, and dramatically spit it out all over the kitchen floor.

"That milk is _foul._"

Demyx was slightly miffed at that. He'd only just bought that milk.

* * *

Return of the random question at the end? I think so! In the next chapter we meet someone we haven't formally met in the story yet. Who do you think it is? OH THE SUSPENSE!


	9. Chapter 9

We must all thoroughly thank BlueAcidRain once again for being an amazing Beta. Ready now? Repeat after me: Thank-you-Blue-A-cid-Rain.

On that note, I will also thank lucklessisme, underthedarkness and doomshuriken for replying last time around. As well as my headphones, for deciding to work once again. What a happy day indeed!

* * *

**Next Life - Chapter Nine**

Axel trudged down the empty city street. It was quite a dead street by his measuring, with absolutely no-one in sight. No cars, no people, nothing. Just boarded up windows and the abandoned shells of businesses left, right and center. Just ahead was the once successful casino, now a derelict shell of its former self. If Axel didn't already know better, he would not have thought it was the same place at all. In place of flashy lights and suited guards there were broken windows and a pair of hobos fighting over a piece of garbage. Not enough time had passed to make the facade believable to Axel - that much wealth did not just up and vanish in the space of a few months - yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was staring at an empty skull.

The front entrance was thoroughly barred. Haphazardly nailed-in planks of wood covered the doorway completely, clearly intent to keep even the most enthusiastic looter at bay. The intention was clear; _no-one_ was meant to go in, no-one at all. It was all too tempting just to leave the building alone, but quite frankly Axel was out of options. With Saïx in cahoots with someone no-doubt immensely powerful, Axel needed an ally that would actually give him a fighting chance. Hopefully the 'fighting' part of that chance would only be metaphorical, but it wouldn't matter either way if Axel couldn't get past this damned door.

With a click of his tongue Axel crossed his arms and considered his options. For now to be the time for his spontaneous fire starting habit to kick in on command would have been too much to hope for. He didn't think it really would have helped even if he had been able to control it though; Luxord was a bit too high class to support burning down a doorway. For the hundredth time since he'd woken up this afternoon Axel wondered whether he was wasting his time after all. There was absolutely no sign that Luxord was here, not even the tiniest hint, but if Axel was right...

His thoughts were interrupted as a fragment of a hobo's discussion drifted over to him.

"-doesn't look like just anyone, ya know?"

Axel twisted around and stared at the hobo. He wasn't quite sure that he'd be able to pull off his intended menace today, not in his current attire. He'd only been able to find a frayed black hoodie with a crumpled pair of jeans in the motel he'd stayed at. Not that he'd actually _paid _for them as such, but he wouldn't have had the money for them anyway, so he'd had to fall back on 'borrowing' them indefinitely. To his surprise, however, the hobo was indeed intimidated. He held his hands up defensively and took a step backwards.

"Heeey now, just minding my own business, ya know?"

And with that, both hobos hurried off down an alleyway. It must've been the hair. Red hair _was _pretty intimidating after all, especially when tied up in an oh-so-manly ponytail. He must've stricken fear right into their very souls.

With an unenthusiastic frown Axel turned back to the barred entrance. Nothing could ever be simple now could it? Out of a sheer lack of any ideas whatsoever Axel put a hand on the wooden planks and pushed. It had no effect. Axel was stumped.

Before he could think any further Axel's hand twitched violently. Axel jolted backwards in shock, clutching his hand as if stung. The planks of wood... _twisted_. There was no proper way to describe it. It was just as if in a single moment they melded the past with the future, turning green with moss before crumbling with age and disappearing altogether.

Axel was thoroughly freaked out. His path was no-longer barred though, so he figured he may as well keep going. He stepped through the gaping doorway, walking into complete and total darkness.

In a few seconds he could see nothing whatsoever, not even the faintest outline of his hand in front of his face. It felt eerie. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, making Axel hold a very severe debate with himself over whether running away wouldn't have been entirely cowardly at this point. Entertaining these thoughts, Axel glanced back to the entrance. His mouth dried when he realised the entrance was completely gone; there was no light, no doorway, nothing. Only darkness, all around. It was completely disturbing, and yet... why did it feel so familiar?

Colours flashed at the edges of his vision- colours he knew weren't there at all, but he saw them anyway. Flashes of red, tinted with blue, edged with yellow. Axel stood very still, trying hard not to make any sound in the darkness. He knew what was coming next, he'd seen these flashing colours before, but they really couldn't have picked a worse time to come out of nowhere. He could hear the voices now. They were quiet at first, but gathered in intensity far too quickly.

"_-my friends. Remember why we have organized, all the things we hope to achieve-"_

"_-those who forget our true goals will be eliminated."_

"_-my show now, keyblade master-"_

"_-you were testing us."_

"_And you passed. Congratulations, Sor-"_

"_-__I know you're in on it too, but keep it under your hood, at least until the time is righ-"_

"_-__predictable response. Forget it. Men without hearts are so bor-"_

"_-__when your sleeping memories awaken, you may no longer be who you are now."_

The voices all sounded different, each echoing from a different place in his memory. But it wasn't his memory at all, not that he could recall. This had happened before, at a bus stop in the middle of town, baffling Axel entirely in the process. He wasn't sure why he'd be experiencing it now though. He wasn't even drunk this time.

Soon the voices died and the colours faded, leaving him in the darkness once more. Axel noticed his hands had been shaking the entire time, and hadn't quite stopped yet. He wasn't scared. Not at all. To prove it to himself he clenched his fists-

-and immediately unclenched them when he felt a sudden burst of heat in his palm. The heat died immediately. Axel was expecting to be terrified, but if anything the heat had seemed like something he should recognise. He studied his hand closely. Or, at least, he tried to, but he still couldn't see even that far in front of him. His hands still hadn't stopped shaking yet.

On a whim, Axel held his hand in front of him as far as he could manage. Then he clenched his fist.

Fire erupted into existence, surrounding his fist in a tiny ball of flame. The light stung his eyes, making Axel flinch, but the fire didn't burn him. It merely felt... warm. It felt familiar.

Axel was rather tired of things feeling familiar. Roxas, darkness, flashbacks, and now this. It was all getting too much. Just what else was planning on haunting his memory?

Before he could play around with the fire any longer Axel's hand twitched rather violently. The fire erupted and vanished, giving him the briefest glimpse of dilapidated gambling tables before the darkness rushed back. Then, he felt the unmistakable touch of something very sharp held up against his throat. Axel froze completely, hardly daring to breathe. Someone had snuck up on him without him even hearing a thing, and he was _good _at hearing things. Had he been forced to guess, he would have assumed they hadn't laid a single step on the floor in the process, but that was impossible.

There was an incredibly long moment where Axel wondered whether he was going to die right there in the darkness, killed by someone he never even saw. The moment passed, and Axel was still standing there with the knife to his throat. He was rather confused. Was the person waiting for him to say something?

"Um?" was his most intelligent query.

"Ah, so it is you." The voice chimed like the clink of tea cups, and Axel immediately recognised the accent.

_Luxord._

"H-hey, buddy.." Axel wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say in this situation. How did one converse with someone who held them at knife point? "It's been so long-"

"If you don't mind, I'd rather we just skip the formalities." It sounded fair enough to Axel, especially if 'dying' was on the list of formal interactions. "Were you followed?"

"Not at all," Axel said calmly. He was rather surprised by just how relaxed his voice sounded. On the inside he was frantically willing that fire to come back and save him. Anytime now would be greaaaat. "Just who would follow me here?"

The other man hesitated for a moment– an excruciatingly long moment for Axel– but eventually the knife point on Axel's throat vanished and Luxord took a step back. It was then that Axel realised he could actually see again. He wasn't quite sure where the dim light was coming from, but appreciated it nonetheless. He turned to face Luxord as calmly as he could. The man was fanning playing cards in his hand, watching Axel's face closely. Axel wasn't quite sure what freaked him out more; Luxord himself, with his bold and intimidating presence, or the fact that he'd almost had his throat cut by playing cards. Surely not normal playing cards, but the humiliating factor was still there all the same.

After a short silence Luxord spoke softly to himself. "Not quite who I was expecting."

"Uh... what?"

Luxord clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

"Simple nonsense, no more. A loose tongue is a dangerous weakness."

Luxord's eyes were sharp, looking every bit like weapons themselves. Gone were the showy smiles of the flauntingly rich gambler, now Luxord only had serious looks for Axel. It made him look... dangerous, which was an impressive achievement for someone dressed in a dark purple suit.

But whatever he had been talking about, Axel didn't care. Well... that wasn't strictly true, but his curiosity was besides the point. Axel had priorities, and miscellaneous mumblings came far below saving his life.

"Look, I need your help."

Much to the contrary of what Axel had been expecting, Luxord's expression did not change a hair. He just stared. Axel spoke again.

"I-"

"No."

Axel was taken aback.

"What?"

"I cannot undo time," Luxord said stately. "The one you lost is beyond you now, as it would seem." At the blank look Axel gave him he shifted his gaze to his playing cards and continued. "Pardon me, has that not happened yet? I do that from time to time."

"Uh..." Quickly, something clicked inside Axel's mind. "Wait, you're talking about Roxas? But how...?"

Luxord gave him a bemused smile, which would have been a relief if his eyes hadn't retained the knife-sharp glint as before.

"From your expression, I see I may have jumped the gun just a tad. What was your request?"

"Wait." Axel was thinking furiously. Did Luxord really mean what he was implying? "Okay, I wasn't actually going to ask this, but _can _you change time?" Axel wavered, trying to remember the sparse snippets of conversation he'd overheard so long ago. "That's your domain, isn't it? You can control time."

"You give me too much credit. That would be like you trying to control the sun." He gave Axel a significant glance there, as if making a significant point that Axel should be able to understand. He couldn't. Luxord continued anyway. "Time is not a mere tool. It is an ocean, an endless river that never ceases. I can have my hand here and there, mere splashes in a river so vast they are of no consequence, but straddling the whole cannot be done- by me, or anyone.

He paused then, as if thinking. "Think of it like luck. I can do this," he fanned out his cards before him, and plucked one out to demonstrate. "This much control I have, but only Lady Luck herself can deal the cards." Luxord smirked. "And then there are dice. Just how much can you control the roll of a die once it has begun? No, time is not a horse to be saddled, but a ruler to be obeyed. A queen, if you will." Luxord flipped over the card he'd pulled from his hand then. It was the Queen of Hearts.

Axel wasn't very amused.

"A simple 'no' would have done just fine."

Luxord smiled– that knowing smile again, the one that looked all too devious alongside his precisely trimmed goatee. "As you wish." He bowed his head slightly. "Nevertheless, my role is defined. Now it is your own that you may want to consider. Who is your Queen?"

Axel thought that over. Was he asking who controlled him? Surely not. Nobody controlled Axel. Unless... was he referring to their last meeting? Axel had been working for someone else then, an old rival of Luxord's. That must have been it. It would've been too much to expect him to just ask it like a normal person.

"I'm not here on Marluxia's behalf, nor anyone else's for that matter."

Luxord snorted in humour. "That old girl?"

"This may surprise you, but Marluxia is actually a man."

Luxord chuckled. It sounded like chuckling at least, but seriously, those eyes were freaking Axel out.

"I suppose you came to see the actual girl then."

Axel opened his mouth, then closed it in shock. "_She's _here?"

"Why, of course. I could hardly let that boss of yours keep her."

"Old boss. I don't work for Marluxia anymore."

Luxord gave him a surveying glance, as if noting something. "She is a useful trinket nonetheless."

Axel flinched. "She's not a trink-"

"Oh? And you wish to see her purely for the pleasure of her company?"

Axel had no reply to that. Luxord smiled triumphantly.

"Go see her. She's in the back."

"In the-"

"Yes, there."

With that, Luxord turned away from Axel, looking out over the graveyard of poker tables and slot machines with a very serious look in his eyes. Axel left him there and headed for the back room. He vaguely wondered if this could be some kind of trap, but it seemed rather unlikely. Luxord had just had him at knife point after all; he could've ended him right there and then if he had wanted to. Axel just hoped he was right about at least some of the things he thought about Luxord. The man was about as mysterious as they came.

Axel walked down the twisting corridors at the back of the casino, watching the walls turn gradually greyer as he went on. It was an odd experience really, watching the red carpet and pristine white walls fade to the same dim grey, but it was nothing at all compared to any of the other strange things about this place.

Finally Axel found the doorway he sought, a pure grey one with a plaque so faded the name was unreadable. Inside the room was incredibly spacious, with the floor fanning out in a semi circular shape and a ceiling that rose up out of sight. There were clusters of couches on both sides of the room, crowded around very low lying tables. The doorway Axel had come through was the only exit, and the doorway rested in the only wall of the room, the rest of the wall space being devoted to incredibly large windows. As always, the windows were curtained off by thick grey sheets, allowing absolutely no view of what lay beyond. Axel had no idea of what _could _lie beyond those windows. They were inside, after all.

At the far end of the room, in the very center of the semi-circular curve, stood the girl Axel had come looking for. With her slim figure and her blonde hair she looked just the same as ever. She was facing away from Axel, staring blankly at the heavy sheet hanging in front of her. Axel would not have been very surprised if she could see right into whatever these sheets were hiding. She was strange like that.

Axel walked towards her. At the sound of the footsteps she spoke quietly.

"There is no further news. The memories haven't slowed down enough for anyone to catch them."

That hadn't been intended for him, but Axel couldn't help but be amused. "Always good to know," he joked. "Now try it without the cryptic speech."

The girl turned in surprise. She looked alarmed for a moment, but upon seeing his face she smiled with recognition.

"Axel," she said quietly. It was the 'happy' kind of quiet comment, which was an important distinction when it came down to it. Everything she said was quiet, but missing the wrong thing could be a fatal error. At the very least she seemed pleased to see him, so that was good news.

"I think Luxord's finally lost it," Axel said quite happily, dropping down on one of the couches as he did so. "He's making even less sense than usual."

Axel smiled at her and after a small hesitation she walked over and sat on the couch facing his, legs together and hands folded in her lap. She was the very image of perfect composure, which was at times hard to connect with the way she always hung her head and avoided eye contact. Right now though, she was looking straight at Axel, with the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips. It must've been hard, being her, but at the very least she seemed to be enjoying Axel's company. He felt a little smug about that.

"You know he does that on purpose right?" She was referring to Luxord, of course, but Axel was immediately sceptical. He gave her an odd look. She frowned and clicked her tongue.

"Oh come on, you're not that blind. He doesn't _make _mistakes. If he says something, it's for a reason. If he says something and pretends that he didn't mean to, then he does that for a reason as well. He evokes thought where he intends to."

Axel shook his head in disbelief. Why could nothing just be simple? But then again, had things ever been simple? He couldn't remember anymore. It didn't help that the things he _could _remember weren't actually his memories.

Strangely in tune with what he was thinking, as she always was, the girl gave Axel a thoughtful smile. "Do the memories trouble you?" Not for the first time Axel wondered if she could actually read his mind. There was no way anyone could have guessed that, no way at all, but he was hardly surprised when it came from her.

"You know about that?" he asked.

In her very meek manner she pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "Of course." With her hair no longer hiding her eyes, they seemed to shine at Axel. He refused to look away or to flinch, but it was always an effort to ignore them completely. Her eyes had no irises, nor pupils. They were pure white. She had told him once before that they had not always been that way, but it was difficult to imagine her with eyes like everyone elses. It just seemed too normal a thing for her to have.

Axel smiled at her, trying to cover up any amount of staring he may have been doing. "You always seem to know so much. It surprises even me sometimes." Technically, it surprised him all the time, but that wouldn't have had the same ring to it.

She nodded in response, a thoughtful nod. "You could say I remember more than I should." She paused, fiddling with the hem of her white dress as she did so. "Others do as well. More and more each day, but never quite as straight forward as I do."

Axel leant forward with a serious look on his face, all mirth forgotten. This was the first time he'd actually heard her give any answers to how she knew anything she did, and he was not going to miss it.

"These things _are_ memories then?" he asked. It made sense, of course, but Axel had always had the niggling suspicion that they were severe hallucinations or a clear sign of insanity. It was more than a little relieving to know that he wasn't just imagining things.

She looked at nothing in particular for a very long moment before answering. "Yes."

"Where do they come from?"

Smiling once more, she turned back to Axel. "I could hardly tell you everything at once now could I? Where would the suspense be in that?"

Axel leant back on the couch, swinging his arms over the back. "What you mean is, you don't know."

Her smile faded as she looked away. "I know where they come from. They just don't work if people don't figure them out for themselves." She thought for a moment. "It's like... a book. The ending would hardly be as important without reading the plot first."

Axel shook his head and laughed. "Again with the cryptic. There really aren't any easy answers in this are there?"

She shook her head, long blonde hair swaying as she did so, but she smiled again. "None at all. So let's talk about something we'll both understand." Axel nodded. "What made you come here?"

Axel almost cursed. He had come here to ask for Luxord's help, and had immediately been diverted into something else entirely. This _always _happened.

Axel growled as he got to his feet. "You may have to excuse me. I have to ask-"

"He knows."

Axel blinked.

"But I haven't asked him-"

"Oh, trust me. He knows exactly why you came. You wouldn't have gotten past the door if he hadn't been absolutely clear of your intentions. He's not exactly the most ignorant person in the world." She gestured to herself then. She had a point.

She leant forward then, hands still on her knees. "There is another reason you came too. There is another question you must ask."

Axel sat back down, trying to think. He hadn't specifically come for any other reason, but she was right, there was the other issue he desperately wanted explained. Now was definitely the best time to try get some answers.

"I need to know..." Axel faltered. How did one phrase this? He crossed his arms. "Can you talk to dead people?"

She sat up straight then, perfectly poised. "I can see dead people, walking around like normal people."

"...seriously?"

Her face broke into a wide grin. "Oh my no." So she had a sense of humour after all. Not a very good one by any means, but it was an improvement nonetheless. "Who are you thinking of?"

Axel paused in thought. Roxas was dead, he already knew that. But how was Axel supposed to figure out how he knew him if _she _couldn't ask him?

Suddenly her white eyes seemed to glow once more. She frowned.

"The one... Roxas was it? Yes, Roxas. He's not there."

Axel's jaw dropped. "What do you mean, not there? Is he somewhere else?"

"No, not like that." She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "He's not _there. _He hasn't passed from this world yet."

"But... but how?"

"Beats me." She timidly picked a stray piece of lint from her dress, not quite looking at Axel. "You checked, didn't you? You were told he died."

"No no, he _is_ dead. Hospital report and all."

The girl frowned in thought. It was odd, seeing her not knowing the answer to something; she knew everything. Eventually she gave her shoulders the tiniest shrug.

"I can't be sure. If he was dead, I would know. His soul..." She pursed her lips. "Well, let's just say I have connections with it. But his soul hasn't died."

"Can people's souls go missing like that?"

"Can people lose their souls? No, definitely not. They're either in their body, or... well, they're dead. If he's neither then..." Her voice trailed off. Her mouth worked silently, but she said nothing at all that Axel could hear. Suddenly she stood up, looking at the hanging sheets once more. Her eyes shone. "There is more to remember. It is not the soul that this concerns, but the heart. The heart has many ways of changing the rules, and someone is meddling with the hearts of all, as he did once before." She furrowed her brow at that one. "Did you hear that last bit? It might be important."

Axel opened his mouth to answer, but immediately clicked it shut when fit became clear she hadn't directed the question at him. Luxord was in the room, standing just to Axel's right. There was no way he had been there a moment ago, no way at all.

As the only one left sitting down, Axel quickly got to his feet as well. "What does all that mean?"

Luxord was quiet for a long moment. Axel was about to ask again when the glow of white eyes pulled his eye sight back around to the girl in the white dress. She held out her hand to Axel, a frantic look on her face. Axel took it in his, unsure of what was going on.

The glow around her eyes dimmed and eventually winked out, leaving her eyes the plain white they were usually. She breathed a sigh of relief, turning to look straight at Axel.

"You want simple answers. Here is what I can tell you. Roxas is not dead. By all means, he should be, but he is not. Someone has captured his heart. What they plan to use it for, I don't know, but it is not just Roxas he's after." Luxord's head shot up at that, but she kept talking. "You remember Roxas from before, just as you remember everything else. It will piece itself together, but you must be open to the answers."

Axel nodded. He wasn't quite sure what had made her look so scared just a moment before, but her answers were more than he could have hoped for. He knew Roxas, and he would remember the rest eventually. More importantly, Roxas was not dead, and he seemed to be in some serious trouble. Axel wasn't exactly the sentimental type, but there were too many factors here to not get involved. Everything was pointing to this.

Axel turned to speak to Luxord, but the other man interrupted immediately.

"I accept your request for help Axel. We may need all the help we can get."

For a brief moment, Axel wondered just what he was being pulled into here. If everyone was going to read his thoughts before he could even say them out loud then this was going to be a _very _long excursion.

Clearly having some idea of what he was thinking, the girl squeezed his hand with a faint giggle. It was odd, hearing her do that.

"_You're welcome__, _Axel."

Axel grinned, despite himself. "Thank you, Naminé."

* * *

I am being incredibly suspicious of FFnet right now. It keeps wanting to do things wrong and miscount things. Strange robot thing, it is clearly evil. GLARE AT IT FOR ME.

Alternatively you can answer the miscellenous question of the chapter with much gusto! This time the question is this; If you were able to steal any weapon from a KH character, which would you take? In the nicest way possible of course. Let's say you have a permission slip allowing you to do so :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Next Life - Chapter 10**

Vexen was grumbling by the time he finally left Xemnas' office. He despised being kept in the poor excuse for a hospital for any longer than he truly needed to- for no particular reason that he could decipher himself, he just hated it. He hated the feeling that came when he wasn't achieving above and beyond his expected requirements. He was used to outshining anyone and everyone when it came to science, yet the things that Xemnas requested barely made sense to his logical mind. Oh, sure, he _understood _how they worked, it just didn't make a lot of sense. Memories from a past life were one thing, and one thing that wasn't in the least scientific, but heart manipulation and tenuous control of the elements was something completely different altogether.

Not that he minded controlling ice as such, he just wished it made sense scientifically.

His 'miscalculation' had quite possibly stemmed from this wishful thinking. Approaching the problem of awakening one's elemental potential through the medium of science had been nothing short of a monumental disaster. It had been all over the news. Xemnas' connections with the media had barely been enough to cover it up in time this time, and on top of that, Xemnas had been very avid in his attempts of making his displeasure known. Vexen snorted in contempt of that, now that he was safely out of Xemnas' sight and all. Science could not be rushed. How could he have known that his experiment would open the doorway to a gale force hurricane?

He may have hit the jackpot during said disaster however, all thanks to his astute observational skills. The elements hadn't just 'happened' spontaneously, they had appeared with a pattern. Xigbar had disappeared first, much to everyone's surprise, and Xaldin's sudden gust of wind had most definitely happened before the earth had opened up beneath Lexaeus. The link, he assumed, was that Xaldin had been standing closest to Xigbar, whereas Lexaeus had been further away, yet still closer to Xaldin than Vexen had been. It occurred via a chain effect, it seemed. The resonances of one element caused the others to respond. Vexen, however, had felt no reaction whatsoever. Was that because he had already gained full control of his ability, or something else?

When that strange oddity was added to Xemnas' musings it all started to make a bit more sense. These 'connections of the heart' that he was so happy to rant about seemed to actually matter after all. They had all known each other in a past life, after all, and apparently their hearts remembered this. Well, 'remembered' was a bit too much of a gentle word for what had been happening. When someone used their specific _abilities _the resonances of this would reach the heart of someone else nearby- which would then start to remember what it could do with all the force of a mallet hitting a melon, causing their own ability to come spiriting out in whatever way it could. That was the theory anyway, and it very much explained how being stabbed by Xemnas' sword of 'nothingness' had awakened Vexen's own abilities with ice.

Nevertheless, he would figure it all out tomorrow evening. He had great plans, plans that Xemnas had very much stressed that he did not want to fail. On top of that, it was almost time for the next link in the chain to 'die'.

* * *

The receptionist of Pleasantview Hospital was a kind girl and was well loved for it. She was just barely over twenty years of age, she smiled a lot, and she was, rather importantly, very good at her job. Most of the time. While customer service was one of her strong points, she very much lacked a certain flair for punctuality. Luckily for her, no-one had quite yet noticed this.

"Booyaka," she murmured triumphantly to herself, sneaking out of her workspace and very pointedly ignoring the clock on the lobby wall. Six thirty wasn't _too _bad, not by her standards anyway. She was supposed to finish at four on Thursdays, but as long as no-one mentioned it, she would never admit it. Her friends would have been baffled at the thought of her working late by her own free will, but one of the things Selphie Tilmitt loved most in the world was the chance to organize a party, and so she had very much taken the Hospital's Annual Masquerade Ball under her wing.

Her preparations were almost complete. The guests would be expected to arrive around eight o'clock and the planned entertainment would start up shortly after. She had initially wanted to delay the entertainment just in case some people were late, but these were doctors after all, they practically lived by being on time. Even that aside, the Ball Committee and herself would be spending most of tomorrow afternoon decorating the thirteenth floor in preparation. Masquerade Balls were very serious business after all.

That was, however, something to be thought about tomorrow. In the meantime Selphie had her costume to think about, and that alone would keep her up most of the night. She spent the majority of her solitary drive home thinking about how she would finish it off in time.

Or at least, she had intended to. Her train of thought was completely derailed when she heard the words "Roxas Cain" mumble their way out of the radio. She promptly stopped humming to herself and turned the volume up, very nearly leaning in closely to hear as she did so. The radio announcer was quick to repeat himself, adapted as he was to the habits of his Pleasantview listeners.

"The late Roxas Cain," the swazzy voice repeated, "as you all know, was preparing a musical career. While sadly interrupted by his untimely death, his producers have announced that the majority of his first album had already been recorded and so will be released later in the week."

Selphie quite avidly arm-pumped and cheered. She then quickly re-grabbed the steering wheel and swerved out of incoming traffic, but she was too ecstatic to notice. Roxas' music was going to be the best, she just knew it. Maybe if she pulled a few strings she could even get a track or two before tomorrow night. She almost cheered again when the radio announcer promptly begun playing his first single; 'She's no Yuna.' If it was on the radio, then it was surely on the internet, and she could definitely find it.

Her pleasant thoughts were thoroughly interrupted when a man in a black suit stepped out into the street in front of her. Luckily she was in the suburbs by this point, so she hadn't been driving overly fast in the first place, but she still had to slam on the brakes to stop in time. The car jolted to a stop, making Selphie's head bounce back against the headrest. She was uncharacteristically enraged.

"Hey!" she yelled as she popped her head out the window. "Watch it!"

When the man turned and looked at her, however, she immediately regretted it. He had a multitude of long black braids, angular black eyebrows, and intimidating thick side burns. He was also very, very tall. As scary-looking as he was, he merely smiled at her. Selphie gulped.

Moments later Selphie was almost home. She couldn't quite remember why she had stopped the car earlier, or where her sudden headache had come from, but neither really mattered. She had a long night of costume making to attend to, and she would be damned if a little pain was going to get in her way.

* * *

It was well into the evening when Demyx's eye happened to catch on something outside his lounge window. A very recognisable figure was standing on the footpath outside his house, seemingly watching the other side of the street. Demyx chose to completely ignore the fact that the man had his back turned to him and ducked behind the window frame just in case, hissing to Zexion in excitement.

"Zexion!"

The receiver of this hiss had been dismally trudging through the lounge in the process of taking out the garbage. Most people held a general dislike of this activity, and more than a few of the inhabitants of Pleasantview were known to pointedly ignore their rubbish bin far past the point where they could be called 'full' in the vague hope that someone else would take it out before they had to. For someone as chronically hygienic as Zexion this task was usually tackled with the aid of rubber gloves, but just moments prior he had horrifyingly discovered that Demyx had already used them all as impromptu balloons. Needless to say he leapt at the first available thing that would distract him from admitting that the rubbish bag felt uncomfortably wet in his unprotected hand.

"What?" Zexion asked.

"It's him!"

Upon sidling up to Demyx's hiding place and casually peeking out the window Zexion discovered that the 'him' was in fact the mysterious man with braids with whom they were oh-so-almost acquainted. Demyx was looking at Zexion expectantly. Zexion met his eyes for a moment.

When Zexion merely turned to continue his most unhygienic task Demyx promptly squawked and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back behind the window.

"What? Aren't you getting the sudden urge to snoop around?"

"No," Zexion replied flatly.

"Aw, come oooon. You'd be taking out the garbage and all! It's the perfect alibi, not even a little bit suspicious."

"No," Zexion said firmly. They couldn't give themselves away so soon. Too much rested on the fact that Xemnas didn't suspect Zexion of having thought things through at all. They had to seem ignorant, and that very much meant avoiding Xemnas' close advisors for the time being. As long as Xemnas had no reason to even consider Zexion Green in any way, shape or form then they had a chance of slipping completely under the radar. Asking prime suspect number two of his motives would achieve the exact opposite.

"I'll take it out once he's gone," Zexion mumbled to Demyx.

Demyx opened his mouth to argue but Zexion gave him his no-nonsense face.

"No fair," Demyx whined. Zexion almost smiled at that. Calling Demyx 'cute' might be going a bit too far, but he definitely had all the trappings of an over-eager puppy.

"Weren't you supposed to be finding masks?" Zexion prompted, hoping to distract Demyx from any temptation. Demyx blinked at him quizzically before his face lit up.

"Oh yeah!" he cried. Demyx bounded to his feet, rushing off to find something-a-rather. "I figured," he called over his shoulder, "that we should probably have costumes as well. We want to 'blend in' after all."

Zexion barely suppressed the urge to groan. He could already tell that the whole ordeal was going to be much more humiliating than he had bargained for.

* * *

Xaldin was very pleased with himself. For once, everything was going according to plan. Well, apart from the hospital's receptionist almost running him over, but that hardly counted. Her memories had been dealt with.

True, Vexen's attempt to reawaken their powers the night before had been an atrocious failure, but Xaldin had managed to salvage the situation by remembering something useful in the process. There had to be some bright side to being blown around a science laboratory like a cat in a tumble dryer after all.

The small tidbit of information that he had recalled was extraordinary to say the least, and he was sure it was something that he alone had recalled. He wasn't about to share this with any of the others, not when it gave him such an upper hand. He needed any and every advantage he could get when it came to the inner workings of their somewhat impractical organization, and surprise was always an invaluable weapon.

Xaldin stood on that one street; that blasted street he spent far too much time on. It had the tiniest hints of un-awakened powers overlapping each other so closely that he couldn't tell them apart. He had already learnt as much as he could by simply watching and waiting, which was exactly why he was no longer playing around. This time victory was in his grasp. The foolish girl on the phone had played right into his hand; getting her name had been simple, and everything had fallen into place after that.

Kairi; the Princess of Heart with direct ties to the very Keyblade master who had caused the Organization's previous downfall. That wielder of the Keyblade in particular Xaldin would never forget, _could _never forget. The name was imprinted on his soul; he'd been _killed _by him after all. This time though, Xaldin would triumph.

A white van pulled into the street and Xaldin smiled. It was almost time.

Seconds later Xaldin was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

It was with a strong sense of defeat that Kairi parked the van on the side of the road. She sat in the driver's seat for a long moment, not moving at all while her mind dwelt miserably on her unfruitful plan. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to keep away from the flat like she'd wanted. Even as it was she'd spent the last two hours sitting aimlessly at _Ma Dincht's Coffee and Cake Emporium_ with the same cup of coffee before she was finally chased away by an overly eager table cleaner. Kairi was at a loss of what to do next.

Kairi glanced at the rear view mirror aimlessly. Her reflection frowned back at her, straight red hair framing her bright blue eyes. Those eyes seemed slightly accusing, ridiculous as it was. Kairi prided herself on her strong sense of will, it was what set her apart from the rest of her friends after all, but here she was hiding in Riku's van simply because she hadn't been able to occupy herself for half an afternoon. From the looks of it Sora's troupe of crazy stalkers hadn't even shown up yet, so all her efforts had been for naught. She would be home when they arrived, despite very, _very _much not wanting to be.

On the bright side: she'd probably come off as being more responsible for sticking around.

On the not so bright side: it was entirely unintentional.

With a dignified huff Kairi undid her seat belt and slipped out of the vehicle. She slammed the door shut for the miniscule feeling of satisfaction it gave her and whirled around to come face to face with a complete stranger. She had parked on the side of the street opposite her flat as a matter of habit, all three of them did that, but she had never considered the possibility of encountering the inhabitant of the house they always parked in front of. He didn't seem too thrilled himself.

The man stood there irritably, frowning at Kairi quite openly. It took her a moment longer than it should have to realise she was, in fact, standing right in his way. With a jump, she sidestepped and gave him an innocent smile, desperately hoping he wouldn't question her parking habits. To her relief he simply dropped a garbage bag on the footpath where she'd been standing before turning back around and leaving without a word. He was an immensely anti-social fellow, that much was certain. It might have been because of his hair. Kairi spent the last few seconds before he disappeared inside trying to decipher whether said hair was actually purple or just simply blue. She concluded that such a dilemma would certainly be enough to drive anyone into a permanently foul mood. At the very least, she had been ever so slightly taller than him, so her mood improved by just that much.

No other strange neighbours showed up while she crossed the road and fumbled with her keys at the front door. After finally letting herself inside Kairi found Sora fast asleep on the couch.

She couldn't help but stare at the sight; Sora lying on his back, arm dangling to the floor, eyes shut with mouth wide open. He was so... simple. There was never anything hidden about Sora, and at times you could almost forgive him for leaping to the first conclusion that came to mind. Almost. With a sigh, she shut her eyes and very much tried to avoid forgiving him for letting the crazy people come to their house.

She completely failed.

Murmuring to herself in disappointment, Kairi tiptoed quietly out of the room. How was Sora supposed to learn if she herself couldn't even stay mad at him for an entire day?

Reaching the doorway, she glanced back at the form of sleeping Sora once more. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad for her to be here when the crazies came after all. With a shake of her head Kairi went back to her room, mentally willing Sora to never change.

* * *

Sora was falling.

He did not remember how, he did not remember why. All he knew was that he was here, and that he was falling. It hadn't occurred to him that he might have eyes here, but upon realising that he did he opened them. Blue surrounded him on all sides. A deep, dark blue that seemed to fade to darkness. He fell for what seemed like forever, yet in just an instant there was a flash of light, and the falling stopped.

He was standing on a beach. It was a perfect beach. The sand was exactly how sand should be, the sky was the perfect tint of blue, and the sea stretched out before him as far as the eye could see. It was a very familiar beach. It was _his _beach.

Riku was in front of him. He hadn't been there before, but that didn't matter. Riku was there now. Sora shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun as he tried to get a closer look at Riku standing knee deep in the placid water. His white hair seemed to glisten in the sun light, but he was looking the other way.

Sora grinned despite himself and took a step forward.

Immediately the water rushed backwards, away from the island, and before Sora could react a monstrous wave was hurling itself towards the shore. It was immense, the kind of wave that could engulf him completely without even pausing. It was mere seconds away, and yet Riku hadn't moved. He would drown if Sora didn't do anything.

As if his thoughts had triggered something, Riku turned around and smiled at Sora. The wave was looming ever closer, but Riku just calmly considered him as if nothing was happening. Then, he held out his hand.

Sora didn't even pause. He leapt forward, sprinting towards Riku, reaching out to grab his outstretched hand. The wave did not scare him, not as much as losing Riku did. In the tiniest instant before Sora's hand would have met Riku's, Riku was gone, and Sora was engulfed by the water. Water collided with him on every side, spinning him around carelessly and regardless of direction. Darkness swallowed his vision.

Other things happened, all blurring together and inseparable from each other. Riku was underwater while Sora was pulled away from him by the currents. Sora was falling through the sky, then on the beach with Kairi, and then slipping through the sand to fall through the sky once more. In the end, Sora was still falling, falling through the dark blue water until it turned completely black.

Eventually he turned and landed on something solid. It was all dark until he took a step forward. At his first step light exploded from beneath him, shining up in the form of a stained glass window as a multitude of doves flew off all around him. He watched them fly off in wonder as he was left behind on the pillar of coloured light.

Things happened. A voice spoke to him and things happened. He could barely recall them as they happened, but he felt more awake each time they did. There was a door, Sora distinctly remembered the door. And there was Darkness. Not the normal kind, but definitely Darkness with a capital 'D'. Huge, hulking darkness that somehow attacked him. It attacked him and reminded him of...

Riku.

Sora jolted awake. He looked around quickly before remembering he was only in the lounge, sleeping on the couch. He had no idea how he had fallen asleep so quickly, nor was he precisely sure how he'd managed it so early in the evening, but apparently sleep had taken him by complete surprise. It was bad enough that it was past seven and Leon hadn't even turned up yet without him having weird dreams in the process. He couldn't even remember them, which was odd. They had happened literally less than a minute ago. Something about Riku...

With a shake of his head he tried to forget it. Dwelling on a dream seemed a silly thing to do at the moment. He was supposed to be waiting. He didn't want to be caught off guard when the strange people came, especially not with Kairi still mad at him about it. Pulling himself up into a particularly uncomfortable position on the couch, Sora tried very hard to stay awake.

It didn't work. Within minutes he was back in the darkness, watching Riku hold his hand out to him once more.

* * *

Woah, unexpected sudden chapter much? As usual, a parade of thanks goes to BlueAcidRain for Betaing the chapter with all her usual amazingness. The wait for the next chapter will be much shorter, I can assure you. In the meantime, Happy Holidays and stuff! I bet a lot of you are getting snow. You guys are lucky. It's so hot over here it's not even funny. Enjoy it while you still can, for I will steal that cold weather some day!

And now I'm curious. What time of day do you usually settle down to read fanfiction?

Also: Bombsauce.

That is all.


	11. Chapter 11

Riku felt awful.

He sat in his bedroom, like he had been all day. He could not tell how long he had been sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, but in all honesty he hardly cared. The curtains were drawn shut, the windows hadn't been opened. The air was stuffy and hot, but much preferable to the alternative. Opening the curtain meant letting the light in, and light created shadows. The last thing Riku wanted to see right now was shadows.

It was irrational and he knew it. He'd have to face the natural darkness of night eventually, just like he had last night, but to his great relief _that _darkness had had nothing wrong with it. It was just dark. It was nothing like the other darkness.

He just didn't seem to be able to forget that other darkness, the one that had opened up and swallowed him whole on Monday night. Of course it was Thursday afternoon now, but it hardly felt like time had passed at all. He had seen things in the darkness; seen himself betraying Sora, fighting against him with a body that was not his own, using the darkness itself as a weapon. Always with the darkness. The corrosive kind, the darkness that just felt _evil. _Worst of all, and the part that had him still shut in his room, was that he could still feel that darkness. It felt acidic inside him, bubbling just beneath his skin and threatening to corrode his heart. He knew it was the very same darkness that had stolen him away, but he dared not wonder why it was so easily resting inside him. How could it be real at all? Why was it happening to him of all people? Riku didn't think he deserved any of it.

But he could not face Sora, not like this. He felt... corrupted. As if he could destroy an entire field of livestock just by touching a blade of grass. How could he ever face Sora again, feeling like this?

Even as he dwelt on his thoughts he could feel the darkness inside him joining together. It surged and rose, clawing its way upwards and eventually forming a distinct figure in his mind. It looked like a man, a man with dark skin and yellow eyes, with white hair sweeping backwards across his head like waves before tumbling down to his waist. He wore strange clothing too; an odd plated black coat with white gloves, though the coat turned to white half way down and flared out around his heavy black boots.

There was something about the figure that completely terrified Riku. He seemed familiar, and he seemed evil. That was not a combination that Riku particularly liked at all. He wanted it out, he wanted it gone! In a panic he fought the figure in his mind, threw himself against it and tried to force it away. To his horror it didn't work. With each mental blow it seemed to grow bigger, stronger, becoming more defined and... laughing. Laughing at him, he was sure.

He didn't notice anything else at first, but he soon became aware of a slight swirling inside his room. 'Swirling' was the only word he could think of for it, as in truth it was purely beyond description. The air turned and twisted, taking shape and finally forming into the same man Riku had seen in his mind. Riku could feel the darkness growing inside him, he could feel it resonating with the man before him. He was standing quite clearly in his room now, flexing his hands and grinning at Riku like a demented madman. Riku was starting to panic. Whatever this was it could hardly be good. The other man folded his arms across his chest. He sneered at Riku.

Riku lashed out unthinkingly, striking the figure with his fist. The man vanished at his touch as if he had never been there at all, but Riku could still feel it inside him. He grunted and sank to the floor. It was too strong, but he had to keep fighting it. If he gave up it would consume him completely-

_Don't fight it. _

Riku was very still, trying to hear who had spoken. When nothing else came, he tried talking back to it. _What?_

_Don't fight the darkness, Riku. The darkness is a part of you, you have to accept it to be who you are. _

_But how can I face my friends like this? _he asked it furiously.

_Like this. _

Riku's mind was filled with the sudden mental image of Sora making a completely inappropriate silly face. Despite the sheer panic he was feeling he couldn't help but snort with laughter, just a little. It felt completely out of place in this situation, but he couldn't help it. It made him feel... warmer.

_You don't have to face the darkness alone. Don't fight, but accept it, control it, and use it to help your friends. They are your friends for a reason. _

Riku sat on the floor for a long moment, thinking that over. The voice... he couldn't tell if it was a real voice or just a memory of one- or if there had really been a voice at all- but it was right. This darkness ... he could feel it swelling, _inside_ him. Fighting it could mean fighting himself forever, an unending battle against his very nature that he could hardly hope to win. But if he accepted it...

It hardly seemed the right thing to do. Emotions flooded over him at just the thought. Fear. Shame. Guilt. But why? The darkness certainly seemed evil, but he could not say why. Did using the darkness automatically make him a bad person? Riku wasn't so sure any more. There were those that might use it for evil, but Riku knew he didn't have the moral integrity of a villain. Perhaps he could use it for something else. He wouldn't be a bad person then, would he? Did using the darkness taint him just by association, or would it work in other ways?

He tried it. It was very slow at first. The darkness would creep closer to his heart, and Riku would panic and push it away, sweating profusely. It was terrifying. But he had no choice, not if he wanted to move away from this and actually leave his room again. The darkness never receded when he pushed it away, and he soon had it up next to his heart. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. This was it. He embraced the darkness, and it enveloped his heart.

Nothing happened. He had been expecting something climactic upon achieving that but his heart felt the same. The darkness flowed inside him, but he wasn't afraid of it anymore. It wasn't corrosive, it was just... there. But there was more to it than that. The darkness moved inside him, and even as it flowed he could feel parts where the darkness did not touch. Something else was inside him just as much as the darkness was. Was it... light?

Riku slowly got to his feet, staggering slightly. He looked to the mirror. He looked just the same as ever, that was certain. His nineteen year old self stared back at him. He looked haggard, and tired, but at the very least he still looked human. Maybe the darkness really hadn't changed anything after all. He pushed his platinum hair aside and inspected his eyes closely. They were still green. Riku didn't let himself sigh in relief, but he was very close to it. He got to his feet and pushed open his curtains.

It was darker outside than he had expected. The sun was gone and the moon was shining dimly in the sky. With surprise Riku realised that he actually felt quite good now. Now that his own personal dilemmas had subsided he very much felt like he could partake in his normal life again. A touch of normality would be very welcome after these last few days. It had certainly taken him long enough.

Riku left his room. He hesitated in the hallway, mulling over which of his friends he should try to find first. Sora came to mind immediately, the thought bringing with it a flash of guilt over its sheer immediacy. There had been that one thing he had been trying to tell Sora the other night, out in the backyard. That felt like so long ago now. With a shake of his head he banished his thoughts of that. He turned and walked towards the lounge, more as a compromise than anything else. Both Sora and Kairi had an equal chance of being in there, so he didn't feel as bad. Funny, how something so small could seem important after facing that darkness just moments ago. Life could never just be simple now could it?

As it turned out Sora was the only one in the lounge. In fact, Sora was currently splayed across the couch, clearly sleeping and just verging on the edge of snoring. He looked so peaceful Riku could hardly believe it. All his struggle with darkness hadn't touched the world around him, not in any way at all. It was a surprise to see that everything had been so normal, so unaffected, in the meantime. Sora himself looked like he could have simply slept through the last three days.

Of course, Riku knew that he hadn't. Sora hadn't exactly taken the silent treatment easily, but Riku just hadn't been able to face Sora, not with the darkness. It wasn't such a threat now, though, and it was past time for an apology.

Riku walked over to the couch and watched Sora sleep. He was still so peaceful. Maybe it could wait 'till later. He didn't really want to wake Sora when he looked that pleasant.

Yet, upon closer inspection, Sora wasn't really looking all that happy. His face seemed confused almost, or strained. He mumbled something in his sleep but Riku didn't catch what it was. _Was _he sleeping peacefully? Perhaps it was a nightmare. Were you supposed to wake people up from nightmares, or were you supposed to leave them alone? Riku couldn't remember.

For just a moment Riku considered the possibility that Sora was having bad dreams because he himself had entered the room. He pushed those thoughts away furiously. No, he wasn't going to doubt himself like that. He would do what he could for his friends, and Sora was most _definitely _his friend.

Riku knelt down next to the couch.

"Sora," he said, his voice quiet.

Sora promptly snorted and rolled over. Elegantly put, as always.

Riku cleared his throat. There was no response from Sora this time. Riku vaguely considered trying to shake Sora awake, but he hardly thought that would go down well. To wake up with someone's hands all over you was hardly a pleasant surprise, especially when you were mad at the person who had just woken you up. Yes, that was surely the reason. Surely. Riku simply rejected any thoughts that said there might be another reason for why he wanted to touch Sora. Still, he could compromise.

Riku poked Sora's shoulder gently. Sora still didn't respond. He poked him harder, but there was still nothing. Riku was not set to give up that easy though. Leaning closer, he put his face close to Sora's and spoke.

"Sora." Sora vaguely mumbled. Progress. Riku cleared his throat.

"SORA!"

Sora's eyes flew open. Then he screamed.

Very satisfied with himself, Riku drew himself back away from Sora and sat on the floor. As Sora's face slowly lost its bewilderment Riku had to resist the temptation to smile. It was just like when they were kids.

"Glad you could join us, lazy bum."

Sora held a hand to his forehead and dropped back onto the couch. Riku was instantly worried.

"Are you okay?"

"No," Sora replied. "This... this huge, black THING swallowed me up!" Sora waved his arms to emphasise. "I couldn't breathe, I couldn't..." He trailed off there, looking extremely confused. Riku was quite confused himself.

"You're okay now," Riku said, trying to reassure him without seeming too obvious. He very much resisted the temptation to finish that sentence with _'because I'm here.'_ He changed tactic."It was just a dream."

"It wasn't a dream!" Sora insisted. "Or was it? I don't know." Sora shook his head in thought. "What was that place...? So bizarre." All of a sudden Sora sat up looking incredibly surprised. "Wait, you're talking to me now?"

"Oh, very astute," Riku retorted, getting to his feet. After a moment he offered Sora his hand. Sora strangely grabbed his hand immediately, looking almost scared when he did so. Riku tried not to think too far into that and pulled him to his feet. Sora smiled out of embarrassment and rubbed the back of his head with his other hand, not quite meeting Riku's eyes. Then he remembered to let go of Riku's hand, blushing even harder.

Riku pretended to ignore Sora's embarrassment by looking casually out the window. In truth he was extremely intrigued. He'd have to watch for any other odd behaviour before making any assumptions though, and that aside, he still had to apologise. But as he opened his mouth to do so he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye. He looked further out the window, out into the night, but there was nothing out of the ordinary outside. What had it been? He'd only seen a white blur.

Riku looked at Sora to find him adjusting his spiky hair in the mirror on the wall. Sora being self-conscious? Well, that was new.

"Sora," Riku began, but he wasn't quite sure how to continue. Sora was looking at him now, though, eyes filled with curiosity. "I, uh... I want to apologise. For ignoring you." He pointedly didn't look at Sora after that.

But when Sora didn't say anything Riku was eventually forced to look back. Sora wasn't quite meeting his eyes. Perhaps he'd offended Sora more than he thought.

"Sora I-"

"Tell me what it was, Riku."

Riku was taken aback. Sora's eyes were fierce. He had his hands balled up into fists. He looked practically confrontational. Riku felt even guilty. Sora really _had _been worried.

Riku took a step back so he could lean against the wall, his arms folded against his chest. "It's hard to explain."

"Try me," Sora replied.

"I'm not sure you'll believe me. I might sound crazy."

"I told you about my dream, didn't I?"

Riku couldn't help but snort with laughter. "That wasn't exactly a detailed account, Sora."

"Heeey," Sora complained, pouting earnestly. "I was being very serious."

Riku stayed silent for a moment, but he finally relented. He _did _want to talk about it after all. It was just hard to find the words for it. It had haunted him and him alone, he'd never stopped to put words to what he was feeling. Sharing it with someone just made it seem that much more real. But then again, it was all over now, wasn't it? And he could trust Sora. Sora was... well, he was Sora.

So he told him. Riku described as much as he could, leaving out a few of the details that seemed too dark or too crazy, but the story was essentially the same. Sora was a good listener when he put his mind to it, really, or perhaps he just caught onto the mood of the whole ordeal. Riku had to admit, it wasn't exactly light stuff. Quite the opposite, by definition.

At the end of it Sora was leaning up against the wall next to Riku, silently nodding along with the last details of what had happened in the room. As the story ended Riku tried to force a laugh. The mood was a bit tense.

"Sounds crazy, huh?"

Sora shook his head. For a wonder, he seemed to understand the gravity of it all. Sora believed him, believed every word. Something inside Riku was beaming at that, he could feel it. It definitely wasn't the darkness.

"That day," Sora began to say. He trailed off for a moment before trying again. "The first day you were gone, you didn't mention that much." Sora had his hands up behind his head again, in that way he always did. "I saw you."

"You saw me what?" Riku asked.

"I saw you, up in town. You just... appeared, on the road. And then you were gone again." Riku frowned at that. "There was darkness too," Sora added. "I didn't know what it was, but it makes sense now."

"I don't remember much about that part," Riku admitted. "After I first disappeared..." Riku sought the words. "Well, it was very dark. For quite a while too. I don't remember how much of it there was until I finally came back."

Sora was quiet after that. Riku could hardly blame him. He didn't quite know what to say about it either. He glanced at Sora out of the corner of his eye and found Sora watching him right back. Sora looked away quickly, and blushed, but Riku had seen it. Sora wasn't... afraid of him, was he? It was possible. Was Riku afraid of himself?

It was then that Riku caught another glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He looked out the window in time to see a strange white shape wiggle its way across the road, towards their house, just before it disappeared from view. It shouldn't have been that visible, being night as it was, but the white had stuck out against the black of everything else. Just... what had it been?

He tried to put it out of his mind as he turned back to Sora, but Riku found Sora staring out the window too.

"Was that a dog?" Sora asked.

Riku blinked. Had it been a dog?

"I dunno," Riku replied. "I don't think so."

Sora nodded, looking surprisingly determined. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to the window. Riku followed him. They watched the night outside for a while but nothing seemed to be moving outside. It seemed to be gone.

"Maybe it's-" Riku had begun to say, but he was immediately cut off when another white thing came into view. Riku could see it clearly this time. It was ever so faintly human shaped, but warped and twisted with a zip for a mouth. It wriggled in a disturbing manner across the road, much faster than it looked like it should be able to, and soon disappeared out of sight as well. There was no mistake about it though. It had been heading towards their house.

"What _was_ that?" Sora asked, sounding both scared and alarmed. Riku wanted to answer, he truly did, but he had no idea. After his brush with darkness he wasn't exactly excited to see something else strangely unnatural so close to their house. From the sound of it Sora wasn't too thrilled either.

"That wasn't a darkness thing, was it?" Sora asked quietly. Riku shook his head, making his platinum hair swing. Sora gulped.

"Don't worry, Sora." Riku clenched his fist, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt. He could feel the darkness pulse within him when he clenched his fist, though. Strangely, Riku thought he knew how to use it. "I'll protect you."

By the look on his face Sora seemed strangely affronted at the idea, but before either one of them could say anything more a voice shattered their thoughts.

"Get away from the window!"

Riku spun around to find a strange man in the doorway to the lounge. He was tall with brown hair, was wearing a vest and had far too many belts to be sane. Most notably, however, was the sword in his hand. Well, a gun. A gun sword hybrid... thing.

There was no time for specifics. The man looked serious.

"Get back!" Riku called to Sora, putting himself between Sora and the intruder. If the man thought he could just barge in here and attack them he had another thing coming. Riku flexed his hands.

"Leon?" Sora asked in surprise.

Riku was confounded. "You _know _this guy?"

The strange man in question responded to neither of them, hurrying to the window. He looked outside briefly before drawing the curtains, gesturing for them to back away from the wall. They had no choice but to oblige.

Riku shot Sora a questioning look. Sora smiled in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his head again. "Kairi didn't happen to mention the crazy people to you, did she?"

Riku blinked. "What?"

"We're not _that _crazy," a feminine voice objected. Riku spun around once more to find someone else in the doorway. She wasn't nearly as tall. She had short black hair held back by a black headband, a black outfit that was very lacking in the sleeves-and-pants department, and knee high laced boots. She also carried a _giant shuriken. _

Crazy people was an understatement.

Riku looked at Sora again. Sora wilted.

"Don't worry," the new girl cried encouragingly. "You're in the hands of the Great Ninja Yuffie! You're perfectly safe." She smiled as if she meant it. Perhaps she did. Riku wasn't sure.

"Is the house secure?" the man apparently called Leon asked. The girl nodded with far too much enthusiasm.

Riku had had enough. If people were going to barge into their house they could at the very least include them in the discussion. You know, as long as Riku didn't decide to throw them out on sheer principal.

"What is this about?" he demanded.

Leon gave him a hard look. It was even more effective when Riku noticed the scar cutting across his face. "We don't have time to explain," he said flatly.

"Sure we do," the girl objected. She gestured grandly, pronouncing everything with far too much excitement. "Sora asked us to come, and so we came! Just in time too. Any longer and those things might have attacked."

"Things?" Sora asked.

"Nobodies," Leon growled. He folded his arms with his eyes closed. For a moment Riku didn't think he was going to say anymore, but then he continued. "Short white creatures that slither. We saw some on our way here."

"Oh!" Sora added, almost as excited as the girl had been. "That must have been what we saw cross the road, right Riku?"

Everyone looked at Riku then, expecting him to answer. Riku felt quite bewildered. With the darkness inside himself under control he had half-expected things to go back to the way they had before. Apparently he had been dead wrong. These people that Sora had called, Riku didn't trust them, not one bit.

But... he trusted Sora. If Sora thought he knew what he was doing, Riku would trust it. For now. As long as the strangers didn't seem dangerous Riku would go along with this, but the moment they threatened Sora they would get a fist full of darkness right where it hurt. Which was pretty much anywhere, really.

Leon was looking Sora up and down now, making Riku slightly wary.

"Where is it?" Leon asked eventually.

Sora blinked. "Where is what?"

"The Keyblade."

"The say what now?"

Leon's palm collided with his face with an audible slap.

"Calm down, Leon. They're just new to this stuff," the girl chirped in happily. She turned to Sora and Riku. "It's about this big," she gestured with her hands, "and looks like... well, a key. It looks like a giant key."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sora said, sounding confused. "You asked me about that the other day."

"Let's go, Yuffie," Leon grunted. Riku's head swivelled to look at him. "Clearly I was wrong. This isn't them."

"Wait! You can't just leave, you promised to help me with Riku!" Sora practically pled. Then he straightened, looked at Riku, blushed, and looked away. Riku wasn't sure what to make of that. Was that... because of the darkness? Sora _had _seen it before. Perhaps it was.

"We have no business here if you're not the Keyblade master," Leon muttered angrily. "We're wasting time."

"Leon's just jealous because he didn't get it," the girl, Yuffie, said to no-one in particular. She was grinning wide. "Isn't that right Leon?"

Leon didn't say anything to that. If anything, he looked even angrier. Well, if a stone could be said to get any angrier. His face certainly gave off all the emotion of a stone.

"We're leaving-"

"Oh, come now. Are you saying you don't remember him? You knew his name didn't you?" Yuffie pranced out in front of Leon, prodding his chest with the full force of her finger.

"It doesn't matter. It could easily just be the Pull."

"Which," Yuffie added smarmily, "would mean that he is indeed part of it all. Keyblade master or not, we knew him before. There is no running away from that, by the very definition of Pull theory."

"Um," Sora said elegantly. Riku barely hid a smile.

Yuffie spun to give them a surprised look, as if she had forgotten they were there. "Oh," she said finally, "It's like this. People from before, in the past life, all get drawn together again because of-"

She cut off abruptly as someone's phone began to ring. It was a very... victorious sounding ringtone. Leon waited until the second ring before digging a cellphone out of his pocket and answering. He didn't say anything, he only listened. Then he closed his eyes, clearly annoyed. He turned to Yuffie.

"She wants to know if you've seen Cloud."

Before Riku could even object to how little sense these people were making, the tinkling of breaking glass sounded throughout the house. Immediately Leon had his gun/sword/thing in hand, looking determined. Yuffie did the same with her monstrous shuriken, no longer smiling.

A very long moment passed where no-one moved. Well, almost no-one. Sora took half a step closer to Riku. He had been pretty close already. Riku didn't object.

Then everything burst into motion. A swerving white shape slithered in through the lounge doorway. Its movements jarred in Riku's vision, seeming awkward and graceful at the same time. It made a very distinctive warping sound as it moved. It had just enough time to stand up on its two misshapen legs before a small ball of fire flew from Leon's hand and hit it directly in the chest. It promptly exploded into nothing, leaving not a trace. Nothing in the house had been damaged by the heat either. The thing was just gone.

Riku felt a chill spread down his spine. To say this was unnatural would be the grossest understatement he had ever heard. It was downright insane, and yet he felt very much in danger. Just how many of those things could these two hold off? How many had Riku seen outside? How many had he _not _seen?

He didn't have much more time to think. Another 'nobody' slithered into the room and was quickly blown apart by another ball of fire, only seconds before another white shape wriggled right into the room. It made it half way across the carpet before Yuffie's giant shuriken sliced it into oblivion, making it disappear just as sure as the fire did. Yuffie promptly herded Riku and Sora into the far corner, away from the fray. It wasn't an overly big lounge. When Yuffie moved to pick up her oversized weapon Riku felt Sora step right up next to him, clearly leaning against him. Riku promptly wrapped his arm around Sora's shoulders. Protectively, he thought, but Riku truly felt like he needed protection himself. He clenched his other fist.

Three more shapes slithered in, making it into the very centre of the room before anyone could react. All three got to their feet, walking strangely on the spot as their heads twitched around freakishly. One promptly burst into flames and disappeared, the other ripped apart from the giant shuriken, just like before. Leon dashed forward to attack the third with his sword, but it slid out and away from him as easy as a slinky smothered in butter.

Riku was ready though. It slithered up the wall and stood upside down on the ceiling, its arms waving about madly. Riku felt the darkness surge inside him, a wave of acidic blackness, as he threw his hand out toward it. The nobody was immediately engulfed in darkness, going very stiff for an instant before disappearing altogether. Before Riku could be amazed at himself another nobody slid around the doorway. Its paper-like arms darted out, grabbed a framed picture off the wall, and quickly slithered back out. Riku was quite taken aback. But then again, why should _that _of all things surprise him? That they were thieves as well as deformed evil creatures, on top of everything else that had just happened?

Sora was clearly just as flabbergasted. "They took the _?"

Leon darted out into the kitchen with sword/thing in hand while Yuffie checked the windows. Riku just blinked at Sora. Oddly enough, he looked just as confused as Riku felt at his choice of words.

"What?"

"The _! They took the _!"

Riku squeezed Sora's shoulder. Maybe he was in shock. "Do you mean the _?" Riku's eyes bulged when he realised the word hadn't come out. "_? Why can't I say _?"

Leon dashed back into the room then. "They're gone," he said simply.

"Did they get what they came for?" Yuffie said.

Leon shook his head. "I don't know." He looked to Riku and Sora then. "What did they take?"

"A _," Sora answered. When Leon gave him an exasperated look Riku tried to clarify.

"It was just a... an old thing, of Sora, me, and Kairi."

At that, Leon looked to Yuffie, who looked back at Leon. "Where is she?" Leon asked.

"She's out," Sora replied, but Riku quickly shook his head. He had definitely heard her get home earlier. Sora must have been asleep by then.

"In her room," Riku said.

Leon ran out the door again. Sora moved to follow but Yuffie held out her hand to stop him. They waited for all of twenty seconds before Leon came back in the room, frowning. It was a small house, after all.

"She's gone," he said simply.

At once, Riku and Sora ran past him, bumping into each other as they hurried down the hallway, but sure enough, Kairi's room was empty. The window was smashed open, with glass lying across the carpet, but there wasn't a single sign of blood. There were bits of a broken chair scattered amongst the glass, though. Did the nobodies do that, or had Kairi fought back? She was hardly a pushover.

"Kairi," Sora murmured dejectedly. Riku hung his head. First him, and now Kairi. Whatever the hell was going on, it wasn't going for well for their trio.

After a moment Sora stepped close up to Riku again, and Riku wrapped his arm around him once more. Riku could nearly feel the sadness emanating from the guy.

"We'll get her back," Riku whispered to him. He meant it too. No matter what was going on, he very much intended to rescue Kairi. No matter what it took.

It was then that he noticed that something hard was bumping his leg, something cold and metallic. He looked down to see a long shiny object in Sora's hand. When had he picked that up?

Something clicked in his mind.

"Is that-?"

"The Keyblade," Leon finished from the doorway. "Two of them."

As Leon spoke Riku noticed he himself was holding something too. It was nothing like Sora's but was just as long. It looked somewhat like a bat wing, black and red, but on the tip there was a smaller white wing sprouting off to the side.

"Looks like you were right after all, Leon," Yuffie said spryly, elbowing him in the side. Leon gave her a sharp look and she seemed to remember what had just happened. She looked very sad.

Riku wasn't going to waste any time.

"Tell me where they took Kairi."

* * *

...Dun dun duuun!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! Updating this close to christmas will count as a present to all you fantastic people who follow this story so closely. You all never cease to amaze me with your kind words and enthusiasm. Thank you for all of it!

Extra big thanks and wondeful celebrations go to BlueAcidRain, who has once again spent her free time being a truly amazing Beta. She is epic, she truly is.

~Take Care all!


	12. Chapter 12

So it's officially been a year, a week and four days since this fic was last updated.

The saddest thing about that fact is that the next few chapters had already been written, I was just waiting for my beta. I know, I probably should have just gotten on with it sooner, but call me an optimist. I waited far longer than actually makes sense. But I don't think she's coming back, and I would really like to finally get this plot out of my head, so let's just roll right ahead.

The ending is coming a lot quicker than I had originally planned. This fic ws going to be _huge_, but the way it's going now means that I really can't use all the material I had planned for it and still have a story that makes sense. But there's always a next fic, right? Besides, these characters need a rest. They'll be exhausted after this.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Zexion cringed as the morning daylight hit his face. He pulled the pillow back over his face and grumbled.

The sound of Demyx laughing tore through his escaping dream like a knife. "It's time to wake up," Zexion heard him say.

So, Demyx had opened his curtains. Zexion would have to get him back for that later. For the moment, however, Zexion refused to move. He intended to make this very clear by... well, not moving.

Just when he thought he had succeeded he felt the bed dip suddenly in the corner. Demyx had sat down on the bed. Gah!

"We need to talk," Demyx said softly.

Zexion's mind tripped and fell over. They needed to talk? That was practically the universal signifier for extremely bad news. Was Demyx kicking him out? Zexion hadn't even been there a week! What had he done wrong?

He sat up slowly, forcing his eyes open. To his great relief Demyx didn't _look _like he was about to kick him out; he was toying idly with a soft toy in the shape of a small yellow bird. It was cute. Did cuteness discount the necessity of bad news? Zexion clung to the possibility with the same desperation that a drowning man clung to a floatation device.

When Demyx finally decided that Zexion was awake enough to hold a conversation he spoke.

"Last night..." he paused. Zexion's mind raced. _Last night? _What had happened last night? "Last night I _may _have drenched all your clothes. I mean, on accident and stuff."

The panic slowly ebbed away, allowing Zexion to relax. He lay back down and closed his eyes.

"Are you mad?" Demyx asked with a worried squeak.

"You woke me up for _that?" _Zexion asked back incredulously.

"Well, you see... it was one of those totally weird water things. You know, like we were talking about the other day?" Zexion slowly opened his eyes again. Demyx was looking at him with a pained expression.

"Oh," Zexion said.

"Yeah, I thought you'd wanna know."

"When was it?"

"Um." Demyx paused in thought. "Last night sometime; a bit before midnight, maybe? Everything was fine, and then it all just went nuts! Water was flying everywhere!" When Zexion said nothing in return Demyx looked at him. Zexion caught his eye, but when he remained silent Demyx began to blush. In a rush he got back to his feet, suddenly avoiding looking at Zexion completely. "Well yeah, that's all. I'll um, go, now." And then he was gone.

Try as he might, Zexion couldn't get back to sleep after that. Eventually curiosity stirred him into getting dressed and checking on his clothes.

Demyx had been right; the water really had gone everywhere. The kitchen floor housed a puddle that covered it entirely, with streaks of water lining all the walls, cupboards and doors. For a wonder, it seemed entirely contained to this one room. Unfortunately, this hadn't saved Zexion's box of clothes. It was on the corner of the bench, completely drenched like nothing he'd even seen before. Zexion suddenly felt incredibly foolish for not thinking to move it into his room yesterday when he had had the chance. Now he was out of clothes. Again.

Demyx walked in with a mop and –with an incredible frown- started trying to clean up the mess. It didn't seem to be very successful. There was so much water that the mop simply moved it around more than anything else. Demyx was still blushing.

"Were you _in _here when this happened?" Zexion asked incredulously. Water covered practically every surface of the entire room, no matter what the angle. He very much wondered what it had looked like when it was happening.

Demyx took the question as an excuse to put the mop down and lean against the wall- which he immediately recoiled back from, attempting to rub the water off his clothes.

"Well, kinda," Demyx answered. "I was getting a drink of water, but then it was all, like..." He rubbed his chin before gesturing wildly. "Like WOOSH! It came out of the tap and made all these weird shapes, almost like it was... dancing, you know?" Demyx grinned then, like a small child who was incredibly pleased with himself. "It was pretty damn cool."

Zexion shifted unconsciously. He sometimes wondered if Demyx had the same grasp of consequences that normal people did. What if Demyx had drowned? Would that have been _cool _too? Zexion must have been frowning, for Demyx looked at him and suddenly the smile slipped off his face.

"Well, apart from your clothes I mean. That wasn't awesome." He looked down at the puddle of water then and, of all things, shook his finger at it. "Bad water," he scolded.

Zexion took that as his cue to leave the room. Before he had made it out the door, however, Demyx had darted out in front of him, handing him the mop.

"Hey, Zex, I still have to work on our masterful disguises for tonight, so do you think you would mind...?"

Zexion scowled, but he took the mop. Demyx's face turned gleeful before he gave Zexion a thumbs-up and dashed off down the hallway. It made Zexion want to sigh dramatically, but he was much too dignified to do that sort of thing. Being the responsible one was such a drag sometimes.

The mop had absolutely no effect on the water that Zexion could tell, so he settled for using Demyx's entire supply of towels to dry off the entire room. Eventually. At the end of it he was left with a large sopping wet pile of fabric to hang outside and dry. No, today was not a good morning, not at all.

But by the time Zexion had changed into another collection of Demyx's spare clothes and had eaten breakfast, he was left with nothing else to do. It was an effort to remind himself that today was Friday, the day where they would go to the masquerade ball and try to figure out what was really going on. Zexion figured he should have been feeling anticipation, or excitement, or even fear, but no, he was only bored. With an extended reprieve from his occupation and Demyx thoroughly busy with his costume making, Zexion was left with an oddly unfamiliar void of activity. He wanted to do something useful, but what?

To his complete dismay none of the food in the kitchen cupboards had suffered any water damage, nor had the fridge even been touched, so there was no food to go out and replace. The carpet in the rest of the house looked fine, so vacuuming would be unnecessary. There was no washing to be done, and he'd already taken care of his dishes. The entire house was just... fine.

In a huff, Zexion went off to find something to read. There wasn't an extensive supply of books in the house that he hadn't already read before, but Demyx happened to have a modern translation of Lord Avon's "I want to be your Canary", and so Zexion settled down rather miserably in the lounge to read it.

Demyx had left the television on, and every now and again he would wander into the room to check whether his favourite show was on. By midday the only noticeable thing that had happened was when Demyx had made unhelpful comments at the television for not 'hurrying up'.

Zexion could feel himself frowning while he read, but he couldn't gather the willpower to care. Was this all he had in life? Work and reading? If this was it, then what was the use worrying so much at the end of it all?

Soon Demyx came over and joined Zexion on the couch. By this point Zexion was thoroughly annoyed.

"I thought you liked Lord Avon?" Demyx asked.

Zexion was pulled out of his train of thought by the comment. He proceeded to find that he hadn't been paying the book the slightest book of attention, but had been reading over the words without taking any of it in. For the briefest moment his sight flickered. Instead of the play's manuscript he was holding a book, hardbound with a black cover. It had odd white symbols on the front, and the title was in Latin. Then it was just the play again. 'I Want to Be Your Canary' stared up at him. Zexion stared back.

By far, it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd hallucinated recently, but it was still pretty unnerving. The masquerade ball really couldn't come quickly enough.

It was at that point that Demyx's favourite show came on. He whooped and cheered – much in the same way that a chimpanzee might do if it had been shot with a rifle – and turned the volume up almost unbearably loud. In part, Zexion was relieved that Demyx was in the room again, but his annoyance overwhelmed his relief like a puppy caught in a flaming tornado. And he could just _tell _that he was losing it when he started using too many analogies in his inner monologue.

Zexion gritted his teeth and hoped this new level of noise would pass. Instead, the exact opposite happened. At some level he supposed it shouldn't have surprised him that much; Demyx was loud in everything, so why should Demyx watching television be any different? In truth, he realised, Demyx's running commentary had just happened to come at the moment when Zexion was least equipped to handle it. At first Zexion had just assumed Demyx was making a few casual comments and had given it no thought, but it soon became obvious that they were not going to stop. Everything from "no, don't go in there! That's stupid! Stupid!" to "what did I _just _say?", and two minutes later would come the "if he hadn't gone in there, he would've totally been fine" and the "If _I _was in there, I would've just punched him in the face! Like, POW!"

Zexion was reduced to grinding his teeth in the sheer effort of not saying anything remarkably rude. It was an overwhelming effort.

After a significantly loud bout of 'I _told _you not to sleep with him!' Zexion settled for glaring at Demyx out of the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, Demyx happened to look around at just the right moment to see it. Completely oblivious to the discontent in Zexion's demeanour, Demyx did something unexpected. He looked away for a second, fiddling with something in his hands, and then he looked back with a pair of circle-framed glasses sitting on his face. He was grinning at Zexion with expectation. They made him look rather much like a librarian, or a school teacher, or perhaps even a dentist. In other words, it seemed the absolute opposite of all thoughts Zexion had had of Demyx thus far. Moreover, it was completely inappropriate; the main love interest of the movie had just spontaneously combusted, and Demyx was grinning?

Zexion looked away. After a moment he looked back to see Demyx wiggling his eyebrows at him suggestively.

"Do you like them?" he asked.

"No," Zexion snapped.

"Well, there goes the 'Harry Potter disguise' plan then." Demyx shrugged, turning back to the movie. After a long pause he frowned, looking back at Zexion. "You don't seem so happy all of a sudden," he noted. "Did the canary pick on you?"

Zexion sniffed in disdain.

"Or," Demyx mused in a far too excited manner, "Could it have been... Bubbles?"

Demyx looked over to his goldfish and gave it an incriminating look, completely emphasised by the ridiculous glasses.

Usually Zexion would probably find this amusing, but he fought the urge to smile ferociously. And he won. His amusement melted away before the onslaught of his annoyance, building in intensity until he was scowling at Demyx rather avidly.

"Oh, come now," Demyx reasoned, leaning back and grinning at him still. "My jokes aren't _that_ bad. What's bothering you?"

Zexion considered that for a moment. Where did he start?

_You, _he wanted to say, but even the thought of hurting Demyx like that made his insides twist. "Everything," he said instead.

"Like what?"

"Like being an accidental murderer, and trying to stop my boss before he destroys the world, and having to deal with weird supernatural stuff I don't understand. And for sitting around uselessly all the time and..." he paused then, thinking, but then blundered on ahead anyway. "And I feel like I should feel guilty about not working at all this week, but I don't, and it all makes me feel like a terrible person overall."

"Psshh." Demyx waved it away. "You work way too hard, so you deserve a break. Remember that day you didn't turn up and they didn't even notice?"

Zexion was surprised that Demyx remembered him ranting about that one.

"Besides, you have a way more important task ahead of you," Demyx added, returning to the couch.

"What's that?"

"Helping me eat this ice cream." When Zexion glanced at him he was, in fact, holding a tub of ice cream. More than that, Demyx was smiling at him. When he didn't respond right away, Demyx spoke again. "You're not a terrible person, Zexion. You just think too much. You are, in fact, one of the best people."

Zexion was taken aback. His annoyance cracked, and Zexion fell into something rather akin to confusion. The simplicity of Demyx's optimism was so... refreshing. There was no doubt there, no frustration, and least of all no boredom. It was an intoxicating new window for Zexion's repressed genius. His intelligence had been squandered and wasted at Pleasantview Hospital, but if Demyx's outlook on life was anything to go by, then that hardly mattered.

But then, what did?

After taking the ice cream from Demyx, Zexion looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Well, Demyx mattered, for one. But what else? What was Demyx's goal in life? It felt like it would have been cheating to ask outright, but Zexion thought he knew the answer anyhow. Demyx liked to enjoy things; good or bad, Demyx stole the moment and made it something to be enjoyed. It would hardly win him the Nobel Peace Prize, but it had a certain appeal to it. Maybe this was what Zexion needed to get meaning out of his own life. Maybe... if he hung around Demyx more, he would find a way to enjoy even the parts of life he utterly hated.

And suddenly, Demyx's absurd silliness didn't seem so utterly annoying anymore.

Just as Zexion was considering this fact a little further Demyx made a comment he hadn't been expecting at all.

"That guy there reminds me of you." He was pointing at the television screen.

Zexion eyed Demyx sideways again, watching him smile goofily at the screen. That was a bit of proof for his observations right there; Zexion had never seen anyone just plain _enjoy _television so much. Then his mind did a double take. Was Demyx comparing him to the main character of the film?

Zexion couldn't help himself. He had to ask.

"Why?"

Demyx met his eye with a wide smile.

"Well for one thing he has crazy hair." Demyx barked laugh at the flat look Zexion gave him before continuing. "There's that, but then he's also the smartest character in the whole plot." He went back to smiling at the screen again. "You know, never making the obvious move. He figures out what everyone else is up to, he's always a mental step ahead of everyone else, even when the plot doesn't make sense to him." Demyx flicked him a brief grin once more. "Totally you."

Zexion very much refused to admit that he may have been blushing by that point.

After that, though, Zexion didn't mind Demyx's constant talking so much. In a stark contrast to dreading each comment, now he actually paid them a bit more attention. He wanted to know how these optimistic observations worked.

As luck would have it, something else dawned on Zexion in the process. He was enjoying Demyx's company. He wasn't just putting up with Demyx, nor enjoying him in small bursts, but he was finding some abstract value in it all. He'd been here for days now, and he actually wanted _more_ Demyx time rather than less.

A few seconds later he noted a possible reason behind that last thought. It was unexpected, to say the least, but almost logical. If Demyx could get such a reaction out of him, then maybe... perhaps he was...

He became very aware of how close he was sitting to Demyx. It wasn't that close, in truth, but he suddenly wanted to sit just that much closer. He pondered on how to pull that off without actually seeming entirely obvious and slightly creepy in the process. Straight guys could totally sit close to each other, right? Mutual comfort was very much in the spectrum of normal heterosexual actions. Of course, he wouldn't really know. He assumed it was.

After a few minutes of fierce thought, he attempted to pretend that he was just casually shifting his sitting position and wriggled slightly closer to Demyx in the process.

As his knee struck Demyx's and he settled back on the couch, he realised that he'd sat much closer than he had intended. There was practically no space between them at all now, and all attempts to pretend that that hadn't been his intention were quickly thrown out the window. He blushed fiercely. He couldn't bring himself to quickly shift back though, as that'd give the immediate impression that he didn't actually want to be that close to Demyx, which he totally did. Trying to fight his blush, he peered at Demyx sideways to see whether Demyx had noticed the small war of turmoil that had erupted in his head.

To his astonishment, Demyx was entirely oblivious. Zexion inwardly sighed in relief.

Of course, Zexion was gay, but he was well aware that this made him absolutely no different from anyone else, and noting the unpredictable social attitude of some people towards such a thing, he had found no reason to tell absolutely anyone about it. There were no physical reasons to do such anyway. Psychological, perhaps, but he was not versed in psychology, being a doctor of the body and not the mind.

He was slightly outside his area of expertise here. There was nothing logical about emotions. They just ran rampantly in any which way they felt like, dragging people behind them like a train wreck. He figured it would be incredibly effective to just ignore them completely until some later date, tucking them away for a time where their lives weren't in peril and he had time to process them carefully.

And so he did. Or at least, he tried. It was wildly unsuccessful.

* * *

Hours later they were finally ready to go to the Masquerade Ball. Demyx's choice of costumes had been a bit of a surprise. For his own attire, Demyx had apparently gone for the 'obscure reference' choice; he was going as the goblin king. Grey tights and outlandish shirts abound. He'd even learned some trick that involved spinning small glass spheres in his hand.

At the other end of the interesting scale, Demyx had apparently gone with the 'physical pun' option for Zexion's costume; a dwarf. Not even a politically correct dwarf, but a full on armoured, ale drinking dwarf, complete with purple beard attachment and a small axe to carry around. It was an effort not to refuse wearing it on sheer principle. But on the bright side, at least it wasn't an oompa loompa.

The costumes weren't entirely complete, but he could hardly blame Demyx for that. He'd only had a few days notice, after all, and they were pretty darn good noting the lack of preparation time. Choosing to keep any objections completely to himself, Zexion patiently sat through the awkward pinning of material and rearranging of props before they both met the Demyx Grade Standard of Approval.

To his immense relief, they arrived at the hospital an entire hour early. The traffic had been surprisingly light, so they had made record time.

In all his contemplations over how Demyx's optimism truly worked, Zexion stumbled upon a fascinating idea. They were early, so perhaps they should use the circumstances to their advantage.

It was time to go snooping.

Demyx wasn't too happy with the prospect of Zexion ditching the costume so soon, but Zexion soothed him with the promise that he'd be back early enough for Demyx to help him back into it with time to spare. That had been the easy part. The hard part was convincing Demyx that he couldn't come along. One look at Demyx' spiked up hair was all it took to know how conspicuous he'd be at such a task. More importantly, Demyx was the worst liar in the entire world.

So Zexion set him up on a 'reconnaissance' mission in the staff coffee lounge. It was on the ground floor, a place that Zexion desperately hoped that no-one would even think of visiting on a night like tonight. Presuming he was right, Demyx would be both safely out of harm's way _and _unable to accidentally get in the way. It was perfect. Soon, he was freely roaming through the corridors of the thirteenth floor, alone and at ease. He'd never examined most of these rooms before – he'd never needed to – but now that he was at it he found most of them to be rather odd choices for a hospital floor. The meeting room was passable, and so was Xemnas' office, but what on earth would Xemnas do with his own private laboratory, or a room filled with white stone benches? The hospital's pharmacy and operating rooms were all on different floors, as was practically everything else the hospital could need, so what were these for? And there just _so many _rooms with nothing in them at all, like a tiny maze of empty space. It was more than a little bit creepy.

During a brief browse through Xemnas' office Zexion noticed the book that he had read last time was still out on the desk. Out of sheer curiosity he opened the front cover. He found himself looking at the list of names he had copied down last time, but this time a few of the blank spaces had been filled. He dug his copied version of the list out of his wallet – stored there for safekeeping, of course – and jotted down the new names. He didn't recognise any of them. He shut the book and placed the note back in his wallet. Then he continued his inspection of the mysterious rooms.

At one point Zexion almost stumbled right into a huge room that was fantastically well lit and completely decorated from ceiling to floor. He quickly assumed this was the hall where the ball would be taking place and avoided it; he didn't want to run into anyone just yet. Doubling back, Zexion darted into one of the side rooms just in case someone had spotted him. Unfortunately, he had walked straight back into the laboratory. It sounded innocuous enough, but the 'unfortunate' part was that there was now someone else in the room. Even worse, said person was staring straight at him.

A moment of silence passed slowly. Zexion barely breathed.

Finally the man spoke.

"Ah," he said, a look of recognition suddenly appearing on his gaunt face. "Number VI, I presume? Excellent. I had a hypothesis regarding your involvement."

Zexion tried his very best to hide his surprise. _Act natural, _he told himself, _pretend you're exactly where you're supposed to be. _He had no idea what the man was talking about, of course, but he didn't exactly have a lot of options.

Zexion cleared his throat and nodded, walking over to the nearest table. Trying to look indiscreet, he picked up a piece of paper and pretended to read it. After a moment, he did read it, starting half way down.

_You're giving me too many things lately_

_You're all I need. You smiled at me and said..._

It was at this point that Zexion realised his blunder. He must have blushed hideously, for he heard the other man laugh a low, creepy laugh. It made Zexion shudder.

"Yes, I had assumed the Superior had not told you much, otherwise you would have been at the meetings even after you had taken care of Roxas." Zexion latched onto that, hoping desperately to save his facade.

"Ah, yes," he said. "The uh... _Superior_ has neglected to tell me the details of the plan." Silently Zexion was immensely proud of himself. It _sounded_ vague enough to be precisely on topic.

More importantly, it worked. The gaunt man nodded, his dauntingly long yellow hair shifting slightly as he did so. "So I thought. But come now," he said, gesturing to a pair of chairs against a wall, "You are here, at least, so you know a small portion of the plan. Let me fill you in on the rest." He took a seat, waiting for Zexion to do the same before continuing.

Zexion slowly sat down, desperately hoping that he wasn't trapping himself in the process. What had the man said about Roxas?

"Erm, Roxas," Zexion began. "Yes. That was my task. But, uh... Well, I was only told that much. He said he'd tell me the rest later."

The other man nodded thoughtfully as if it all made sense. Zexion took a moment to take in his appearance. He wasn't overly tall, and was wearing a white scientist's coat. The roman numerals 'IV' were embroidered on the coat pocket, but that was the only unusual thing Zexion could seize on.

He took an inward breath and made a stab in the dark.

"What I've been wondering about," Zexion said carefully, leaning forward just a tad, "Is our objective. What are we trying to do?"

For a moment, Zexion thought he may have given himself away with the question, but the other man seemed to take his complete ignorance all in stride.

"If you don't know that much, then I should probably start at the very beginning." The man didn't seem very upset at that. In fact, he looked almost excited to have a chance to lecture somebody. "We are The Organization," he said, "Otherwise known as Organization XIII – or, at least, that's what we _were _called. I presume the name is still in use.

"Anyway," he continued, "Are you familiar with Plato's concept of reincarnation?" He didn't wait for Zexion to respond before continuing. "It would seem that it has some credit to it. We failed in the last life but, as the cycle of life goes, we were all reborn again, as all people are, with the same souls but without the memories." He gave Zexion a significant glance before continuing.

"Now, you see, we've been working under the assumption that the connections between hearts, or souls, are retained throughout multiple lives. Apparently we were right, and the connections can be manipulated into dragging forward knowledge and abilities from these previous lives. You may have noticed this already. Our powers are uncontrollable at first, as our heart must remember how they work, but with enough exposure to other powers from before we regain full control."

Zexion sat very still for a moment. A lot of things suddenly clicked into place. The sudden bouts invisibility worked fully in tandem with what this man was saying. Then Zexion remembered Demyx's strange encounter with water, both last night and in the days before hand. It was a chilling thought. Demyx must have been a part of this organization too.

"Yes, I thought that would catch your attention," the man said, sounding quite pleased with himself. "It's proven very effective so far. You see, I remember your efficiency. As a founding member, you are tied quite safely with us, and your knowledge is invaluable. The others, however," he added with a sour look, "are expendable. In true Organization fashion, we are making use of this. By 'murdering' the members VIII to XIV we violently tug on the connections between hearts. We are, essentially, pulling on a 'chain' of memories."

Zexion mentally froze. They were _killing _the members of their own organization? He suddenly felt very cold. What was he getting himself into? Zexion noted the number IV on his coat again. So, he was safe, and so was Zexion, but they were going to kill _seven _people?

"To what end?" he made himself ask, entirely unsure of whether he wanted the answer.

"Kingdom hearts," was the man's reply. He was grinning broadly now. "We were so close last time, so _unbearably _close. By tugging the chains of memory seven times over we will pull the common factor between us all firmly into our grasp. That common factor is the very goal of our organization, the aim of all we did last time around; the common factor is Kingdom Hearts, and this time it _will_ be ours."

The other man's grin was sickly now, but Zexion couldn't look away.

"Fascinating, yes? Ah, but you see, I have a new hypothesis. I can't prove it yet, but it's still there nonetheless. We all knew each other before, yes? And we all know each other again, remembering more and more as the chains of memory tighten. However, I propose that these chains of memory may have... fabricated a few memories to help the synchronisation two separate lives."

Zexion's eyes shot wide open. "Such as?" he asked, very much fearing he already knew what he meant.

"Well, we all remember other members of the organization in our lives previous to this last week, but did we _really _know each other? Perhaps we didn't, and our minds just inserted the memories to make the whole situation more believable. Perhaps we haven't met in this life at all before this month."

Zexion felt cold. If this man was right, did that mean... If Demyx and himself were both part of this Organization in a past life, then was it possible that they had never actually known each other in this life at all? Was their friendship was entirely a false memory brought about by his killing of Roxas? It seemed absurd, but if it was true...

The possibility lingered in his mind. Perhaps it was true, perhaps it wasn't. Could he live a false life, completely knowing it was false at the time? Another option presented itself. He could forsake it all and join the Organization, where he had been before.

A long silence followed where Zexion avidly tried to process this information. He didn't want to be here, not in the middle of this... whatever this was. He wanted to run. Luckily for him, the other man swept to his feet, brushing off his coat in the process.

"That's all I have time for at the moment, but there will be plenty of time to discuss this during the ball." His face wrinkled in dissatisfaction. "I still cannot believe Xemnas has us wearing _costumes, _of all things! Why, if I had my way..."

The man left the room murmuring to himself. Zexion near bolted for the other door, but he forced himself to walk, calmly. He traced his steps back to the elevator and jammed on the button that would take him back to Demyx.

The creepy blonde man had been so convinced of his plan; both of its success and of Zexion's involvement. It had Zexion feeling quite jumpy. It wasn't so much that they wanted him to be part of their group, but more that he could almost _remember _being part of their group. The option was rising tantalizingly close in his mind. Theoretically, he _could _join them. He could join the Organization and presumably regain his past memories, all his past abilities, and gain access to this... this Kingdom Hearts thing. He didn't know what that was, but it sounded powerful.

The option was more tempting than Zexion would have admitted out loud. The sheer power of the promise beckoned to him. He had always been neglected, his genius ignored, but if he joined the Organization... it would be everything he had ever wanted and more. It would involve murder, sure, but it would give him power.

That's what reason was telling him, but for a wonder his heart was disagreeing. The thought of Demyx tugged at him very strongly, like an anchor to his heart. Somehow he knew that Demyx wouldn't approve of what The Organization was planning to do, and by extension Zexion felt like he was obliged towards the same opinion. Demyx must have been a member of the Organization last time as well, but the Demyx that Zexion knew would never kill someone in the pursuit of power. It might be out of sheer laziness rather than goodwill, but it was true all the same. Should he abandon Demyx for the Organization? The very thought made him ache. No, even if he did theoretically decide that murder was worth it, Zexion didn't think he could bring himself to leave Demyx behind.

Demyx simply meant too much to him. The Organization might offer him a place to belong, but Demyx had already beaten them to it. Even if his memories of Demyx were false, did that really matter? Their current friendship was no fabrication, and that was all that Zexion really needed to believe. Demyx was real. He didn't need to prove himself to Demyx, he had no obligations or mission to fulfil. Demyx simply liked Zexion for who he was, and that was something he did not remember ever having before – this life or not. For him, Demyx was _home. _

Besides, the man could be completely wrong. His memories of Demyx could be completely real..

He left the elevator smiling softly to himself. Yes, he would stay with Demyx. The very idea of it made him happier than he would have thought. Was his heart beat always so audible? He hadn't noticed that before.

He found Demyx in the staff lounge, waiting for him. When he walked in Demyx looked up at him and instinctively broke into a grin, making Zexion even more aware of his abnormally loud heartbeat. What a curious symptom. He had never heard of that one before.

At Demyx's behest, Zexion expounded all he had done; all his snooping and his extended chat with this mysterious number 'IV'. The goals of the Organization were a little harder to explain, but Zexion got there in the end. He told Demyx everything, or almost everything. He withheld two things. He left out the man's theory that suggested that they might not have been friends before this week, and he definitely left out the part where he had considered joining their 'organization'.

Demyx took it all in stride. He frowned notably at their intention of murder, but he took the crazy explanation with a remarkable amount of open mindedness. Once Zexion was finished, Demyx whistled.

"Wow," he said. "That's quite... well, wow."

Zexion quite agreed. It was quite a lot to take in.

"Tell you what though," Demyx mused, leaning back in the armchair he was lounging in, "it does make quite a bit of sense. About the powers and stuff, I mean. None of it had happened before this week, so maybe Roxas really did kick something off."

Zexion rubbed his chin. "Do you remember being part of the Organization?"

Demyx frowned. "I think... well, I remember a whole bunch of black coats, but that's about it. And that could be anything, really."

Suddenly something clicked in Zexion's mind, a large resounding click that shot through his brain like lightning. He pulled out his wallet, digging out the list of names he had copied out of Xemnas' book. The top of the page was headed by the quote he had written down last time.

_What the mind forgets, the heart knows. _

_Hearts - ever connected - resonate with each other, reminding the body of what it once knew. _

_Connected to all hearts and resonating with them all: Kingdom Hearts._

The first bit made more sense now; it was what he had heard from the scientist in a nut shell. Demyx was leaning over his shoulder, reading the note too. The second part, however, was chilling to read.

_Maximillion Xemnas: The Superior_

_Xigbar Capes: The Freeshooter_

_Xaldin Gustav: The Whirlwind Lancer_

_Vexen Froid: The Chilly Academic_

_Lexaeus Stonewall: The Silent Hero_

_Zexion Green: The Cloaked Schemer_

_Saïx Arte: The Luna Diviner_

_Axel Chaud: The Flurry of Dancing Flames_

_Marluxia Clavelle: The Graceful Assassin_

_Larxene Surge: The Savage Nymph_

_Roxas Cain: The Key of Destiny _

_Xion Roberson_: _The Failure_

The scientist had been number IV, giving him the name 'Vexen'. It all made sense now; all the names he recognised and those he didn't. The first seven names, his included, were safe. They were the murderers. The rest... well, they were in danger of being killed off systematically. The last two names had been crossed out in Xemnas' version; so Xion had been first, whoever that was, and then it had been Roxas. The next in the chain would follow it from the bottom up, but there were still names missing.

Demyx's name, however, wasn't there. Perhaps they hadn't remembered him yet? It would explain that much.

Ever so slowly, it occurred to Zexion that the only free slots on the list were Demyx _could _have gone were all after number VIII. Demyx was on the half of the list that was going to be murdered.

The weight of this dawned on Zexion piece by piece. He would have to protect Demyx from likely-insane geniuses with supernatural powers, all of which were likely right in this building at this very moment or would be very soon.

"Zexion," Demyx said suddenly, looking at his watch. "It's time for the ball."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Selphie stood back for a moment, admiring her handiwork. The hall was perfect. Who knew that the interior of a hospital could be made to look so beautiful?

Well, she had known, of course, but even then she was still impressed with the results. Perfectly positioned tables lined the perfectly decorated wall; every decoration was fitted exactly where it was supposed to be. Nothing had gone wrong. Somehow no-one had forgotten anything at all; every task had been finished to a stunning degree. This defied every logical rule of party preparation that Selphie knew of, but heck, she wasn't going to question a miracle. The preparations for the masquerade ball had been a complete success.

With the waves of pride rolling over her, Selphie turned to her decorating team. They grimaced back at her, looking every bit as tired and frustrated as Selphie knew they felt. This had been draining on all of them, even her. But had it been worth it? Heck yeah!

"Ball Committee!" Selphie said excitedly. "This is amazing. We all really outdid ourselves this time." Her team replied with silence. Hayner was scratching himself, looking off to the side. Pence's head was nodding droopily. Ollete was trying to hide a yawn behind her hand. Well, a response wasn't necessary. She was tired enough herself that she could sympathise with them.

Selphie's sight caught on Irvine as he strolled into the room. Selphie waved him over.

"Where are Tidus and Wakka?" she asked.

Irvine frowned. "They're not here?"

For a moment, Selphie panicked. Then she spotted two pairs of shoes sticking out from under one of the dessert tables. They were sleeping? Again? Selphie gritted her teeth.

"Nevermind," she said, turning back to Irvine. "Is the entertainment sussed?"

He nodded, tipping his wide brimmed hat at her. "All taken care of. YRP will play until ten, then Tantalus Performing Troupe take over."

Selphie nodded, crossing another detail off her mental checklist. With relief, she knew that everything on the list was now neatly crossed off. It was time to relax.

"Well, that's everything then. Ball Committee, we're officially off duty!"

Everyone perked up at that; even Irvine, and he'd only just arrived.

"Okay people, let's go change! Booyaka!"

Her perfectly awesome catchphrase was immediately met with four frowns. Drat. "Oh, come on, please? Just once?"

There was an uncomfortable pause in which she thought they wouldn't humour her.

"Booyaka," Olette eventually murmured. The others quickly muttered it after her. It was less than satisfactory, but it would do for now. She was going to get them using that word if was the last thing she did.

Right now, however, was time for her costume. She'd just have to pop down to the ground floor and get it.

* * *

As the receptionist and her helpers left the ballroom, Xemnas stepped out of the Corridor of Darkness. He walked across the floor to the window – the large one that dominated the northern wall. He barely glanced at the decorations of the room; they were irrelevant.

Once at the window, he mused over how events would turn out tonight. Vexen's original plan had been an utter failure, and so Xemnas had been very clear in telling him that his life now rested on how well the plan for this party played out. If all went well, this would be the beginning of the end. If not, he had invited people who might give him the whereabouts of Numbers XI and X with enough... persuasion. With that knowledge in hand he could make a back up plan, but he _really _didn't want to. He had waited several life times for this, and he was very eager to have it over and done with. How many times had he died trying to do this? With luck, Vexen would pull through. If it didn't he'd probably kill him just out of spite. Incompetence did not deserve a place in Xemnas' world.

He regarded the moon. It had been full but five days ago, so it was already receding in size. Oh, how this moon seemed fake compared to the one of his memories. Soon the real one would be his.

Soon Kingdom Hearts would be here.

* * *

"And now for another exciting episode of _Green's Anatomy. _Tell me, Doctor Green, just how excited are you about tonight's-?"

"Demyx."

"Yeah?"

"Your pop culture references aren't helping me get changed any faster."

"What? Why not?"

A sound somewhat like an annoyed grunt came from the other side of the door. Demyx took that as his cue to be quiet.

He wandered back over to the other side of the staff room, pausing at the coffee machine. Zexion's giant explanation dump had left Demyx slightly more relaxed about the whole freaky-water situation. Reincarnation and elemental magic were one thing, having it come screaming into your own life was quite another. It was just reassuring to finally know that it wasn't anything dangerous, and it was more than a little bit epic to think that he'd actually get to control it.

On the note of control, though, Demyx had been wondering whether it might just have been a matter of practise. There was no way to find out without doing something stupid... and awesome. Luckily, Demyx was an expert in both of those things.

He leaned closer to the coffee machine. He tried staring at it. Maybe, if he focussed hard enough, he could make it do something. He wiggled his fingers in a mystifying manner. When that didn't work, he tried asking it nicely. Unsurprisingly, neither plan worked.

He heard the voice on the other side of the door say his name again. "Demyx."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing? It's making my hands vibrate."

"What? That doesn't even make sense."

"Yes, it does. The memories that respond to the use of our powers react physically through the –"

"You know what, never mind. I'll just take your word for it."

"Thank you."

Demyx immediately tried it again.

He stared at the coffee pot closely, concentrating on the water inside. It was perfectly still. What had he been doing when Zexion interrupted him? Talking to it?

Demyx bowed to the coffee pot, offering his hand out to it.

"Oh, dearest coffee pot, would you like to dance?"

Unexpectedly, Demyx's hand shook. He immediately stood bolt upright, staring at the coffee in bewilderment. It had been swirling, but it quickly stopped. Demyx was half scared, half excited. Needless to say, he tried again.

"Dance, water!" He lifted his hands up. They twitched. "Dance!"

The water obediently rose up out of the coffee pot, swirling happily in mid air. It. Was. _Awesome_.

Demyx turned to tell Zexion about his amazing discovery. Instead, he froze completely when he realised there were half a dozen smaller swirling coffee spheres floating throughout the room. Below each one was an empty coffee cup. He hadn't meant to do that. Clearly he still had no idea how to control it the way he wanted –

The door to the hallway opened. Demyx spun around, panicking. Before he even realised the coffee had been moving, the coffee from the coffee pot had flown straight into the open doorway. A split second later a girl screamed. Then she stumbled into the staff room, frantically trying to rub the cold coffee off her face. She had her eyes closed.

Demyx hesitated. He immediately felt obliged to see if she was okay, but just how would he explain what had just happened? 'Oh, pardon me, I didn't intend to magically throw coffee into your eyes. No harm done?' No, that wouldn't do. He'd sound like a crazy person! The logical part of Demyx's mind took over.

He ran.

* * *

Axel stepped out of the limousine. He felt completely exposed by riding in something so conspicuous, but he had to keep reminding himself that he was going to be conspicuous anyway. He was wearing a _costume_, after all, and this one was pretty convincing. After all, he was dressed as one of the most well known elite members in all of Pleasantview's criminal gangs.

While the Pleasantview Mafia had been officially disbanded a year previous to Axel even arriving in Pleasantview, the core of the crime-based business structure had escaped untouched and fully operational. Illegally, of course, and everyone in Pleasantview over the age of six knew their names.

For they were the Turks, a name most people remembered purely because it was so utterly ridiculous. It was hard not to agree.

And Axel, against all his better judgement, was currently dressed as Reno – the only member of said crime group that he happened to possess an uncanny resemblance to. Axel had a suspicion that Luxord was trying to make some sort of statement by dressing him up as a ridiculosly flamboyant criminal, but whatever the message was it went flying over his head.

As he began walking toward the hospital the limosine's window started sliding down. He paused, looking back at Namine's worried frown.

"Be careful, Axel," she said. "I don't know what their plan is, and that's never a good thing."

"And remember," Luxord added from behind her. "Try not to expose yourself. You don't want Saix's attention tonight least of all."

"And why's that?" he asked.

"Because they're looking for their next targets. If they don't find the ones they're looking for, and you happen to be sitting calmly in their lap, I can hardly see them hesitating to seize that opportunity."

"Note taken," Axel growled. It was advice, sure, but it sounded too much like an order. Axel hated taking orders.

In an attempt to prove that he wasn't anybody's pawn – perhaps only to himself – he strolled up to the hospital entrance at a very relaxed pace. The costume was humiliating. And itchy. After this, he was strongly considering burning it.

In all his practiced dawdling Axel noticed a motorcycle parked outside the hospital entrance. It looked suspiciously familiar. As he got closer he had the sinking suspicion that it was indeed the bike he thought it was. After all, how many motorcycles were such a bright shade of yellow?

He reached the bike and checked the side. Sure enough, it had a fanciful sticker that read 'The Savage Nymph'. Great, just great.

Axel high-tailed it back to the limousine, sticking his head through the window.

"Larxene's here."

Luxord frowned. Namine looked thoughtful. They both said nothing.

"What should I do?" he asked.

"As far as I'm aware, the plan has not changed," Luxord replied smoothly.

"But –"

"Luxord," Namine interrupted. "Remember, she is their next target."

Luxord paused, considering. Namine had a worried look on her face. Axel felt quite the same. If they were after Larxene next, and she was right here waiting for them...

But then again, this was Larxene they were talking about. She could take care of herself.

Couldn't she?

"Luxord," Axel asked, "How much do you know about Larxene? From before, I mean."

"Larxene? Why, she's a knife; sharp and deadly."

Namine frowned at that. "That hardly does her justice; she's a _monster_," she added, looking the closest Axel had ever seen her get to angry. "A beautiful monster, perhaps, but still a monster."

"So she was like that back then too, huh?"

"Yes," Namine said. "If I remember right – and I do – she locked me up in a castle, forced me to ruin peoples' memories, and then she tried to kill me."

"Actually, I believe that was all Marluxia's plan," Luxord corrected.

Namine frowned at him, crossing her arms. "I don't care. She still did it. She's an evil –"

"Boy, I'd better get going," Axel interrupted. "Might be late." As he moved to go, however, a thought occurred to him. "You sure you don't wanna come too, Luxord?"

"I already have some people on the inside; they can help you if you need it."

"Just where else could you need to be?" Axel asked disbelievingly.

"Someone subtle needs to be keeping an eye on Marluxia," he replied, fanning his playing cards before him. "I do believe that 'subtle' describes me much more than it does you. I can blend in, after all." There was a pause. Then he spoke again, grinning madly. "They can't read my poker face." Axel frowned him, just as Namine shot him a sideways look. Luxord shrugged. Then he motioned for the driver to take them away.

Axel gave the driver a friendly wave. Raijin only scowled back.

* * *

When Axel had walked away Luxord signalled for Raijin turn off the engine and park again. Then he turned to Namine.

"It's all falling into place," he said. "Shall we begin?" Before waiting for her answer, he handed her a sketchbook. She looked at it precariously before taking it.

"I still want to know," she said. "Why this plan? It'll play right into Xemnas' hands."

"Only at first," Luxord assured her. "He still doesn't remember me, you see, and maybe not you either. We need to act while we still have the element of surprise, and we can only do that while he has no idea what we can do."

"And this will help?" she asked.

"Of course. Xemnas will think it was all his doing and will act accordingly. He'll trap all the organization members in one place and try to kill the ones he doesn't need. But then," he said, pointing out the window at two boys crossing the carpark, "He won't know that the Keyblade wielders will be right there with him. When you awaken them, they can stop him. And knowing them, they'll probably knock off his all his pawns while they're at it."

"You should really get in the habit of explaining these things in advance." Namine held a crayon in her hands, frowning down at the blank paper before her. He only just noticed that the white of her eyes was the same white of the empty page. It was curious. "I mean, I agree of course," she explained, "It makes sense for me to use my powers over Sora's memories to make everyone remember their past lives at once. But, you know, it'd be nice to know more about our plan than Axel does sometimes."

Luxord just shrugged. "Apologies. I find it incredibly difficult to recall what I have or haven't said yet." He plucked a random card from the deck before him out of idle curiosity. It was the king of hearts. "It's almost time to act. You can begin drawing whenever you're ready."

She started almost immediately. Luxord watched for the moment. Soon he would be too busy meddling with time to see anything she drew. It was curious how she managed to make figures look like people he recognised with so little discernable detail.

All of a sudden, she paused. She's just drawn a figure in a red dress, with red hair. "My sister's here," she said idly. "Of course she is."

"Shall we awaken her too?" he asked.

Namine nodded to herself, picking up a different colour. "It's about time she got to do something useful. Sora... Riku... and Kairi. Their memories will be the strongest of all."

* * *

"I don't like this, Riku."

"What? Don't tell me you're giving up already!"

"I meant this costume. It's awful."

Sora tugged the black shirt in irritation. It was too tight, and the black pants were way too loose – they practically ballooned out like some type of ridiculous clown pants. They were some weird style of clothing he'd never really seen before, which was probably intentional, but it was still annoying. To top it all off he had thick white gloves and some strange picture of a red monster stuck over his right eye. Oh, and he had fangs. Apparently Yuffie's definition of a 'fantastic costume' was completely different from his own. It would have been a lot easier to complain about it if she had actually come along with them, but no, she and Leon had gone in separately. Sora didn't even know what they were wearing.

"Stop whining, Sora," Riku said, looking up from behind the receptionist's desk. "At least your costume makes sense."

He had a good point there. Sora couldn't even make out the specifics of what Riku was supposed to look like, but it included strange white clothes with bits of fur sticking out in the oddest places. If Sora was meant to be a vampire, then Riku was likely supposed to be a werewolf, but it was _incredibly _hard to make out even that much just by looking. At least Riku had escaped the excess amounts of eye shadow that Yuffie had attacked him with.

After a few more moments of waiting, Sora started getting twitchy. If anyone came into the room it would be completely clear that they were looking at things that they weren't supposed to be.

"Can we go yet? I don't think they'll be hiding all their secret plans in the Main Reception, Riku."

"Do you have any better ideas?" Riku snapped.

"Anything that isn't so incredibly obvious would be fine by me." Sora folded his arms. "Couldn't we just go looking through their offices later? You know, when people have finished _arriving?_"

"Fine." Riku dropped the pile of papers he had been sifting through and stalked off in the direction of the elevators. After a second Sora hurried after him.

Riku pressed the button and they waited. They were soon joined by a taller guy dressed as one of the Turks. He had a ponytail of red hair sticking out in a very aloof arrangement. It was quite ...manly. Sora caught Riku's eye and tried to mouth words at him; 'I told you people were still coming'. Riku just looked away. He was so pouty sometimes.

A little while after that two more costumed people came hurrying into the hallway. One of them, in plastic armour no less, seemed to be trying to shush the other much taller one, who was wearing tights and had incredibly spikey hair. When the two noticed that they weren't alone they slowed their pace and tried to look like they hadn't been doing exactly what they had been. Sora felt like smiling at the silliness of it all. The costumes just made everything so much more amusing.

Eventually the elevator arrived and everyone piled in. The ride was uncomfortably quiet. Sora wanted to strike up a conversation with the guy dressed as what he assumed was some type of armoured garden gnome, but when he opened his mouth he received an ill-humoured glare from the man. Sora didn't try again, but he did recall why the man in tights looked so familiar. He was dressed as David Bowie! And he looked incredibly like him as well. He itched to say something to him, but the grumpy gnome stood directly between them, and that would just make it awkward. With an inward sigh he gave it up.

When the doors opened everyone hurried out, all heading for the ballroom.

* * *

"I can't believe you attacked the receptionist," Zexion muttered curtly.

"I didn't _attack _her. The coffee had a mind of its own!"

"She was fine, by the way, thanks for asking."

Zexion looked at Demyx just in time to see him poking his tongue in his direction. Upon being seen Demyx immediately retracted it and looked away. Then he caught sight of the ballroom up ahead. Demyx gasped.

"_Woah," _he said. "It's fantastic! Look at all those _people._"

Zexion heard echoes of the same kind of comment coming from the guy dressed as a vampire behind them. Apparently Demyx heard it too, for he turned around and, after some brief introductions, began excitedly discussing the decorations with said vampire. They both carried on like excited rabbits.

Zexion endured it for all the time it took them to reach the doorway. Then he interrupted their conversation by physically dragging Demyx away from the conversation. He didn't stop until they had reached the corner of the hall. Demyx looked bewildered, but still managed to wave goodbye at the vampire as he was dragged along.

"What was that for?" Demyx asked incredulously.

"Remember why we're here," Zexion said, summoning his best serious face. "This room will be filled with Xemnas' associates. We can't afford to trust anyone."

"What, you think _he _was one of Xemnas' flunkies? The happy vampire kid? I thought you had to be remarkably insane or incredibly boring to be one of the bad guys."

Zexion frowned at him. "Demyx, _you _were one of them."

Demyx paused. "Oh, yeah."

They lapsed into silence as Zexion tried to scan the room. It was exceedingly difficult to accomplish; _everyone _was in a costume, so he couldn't identify a single person present. He was vaguely aware of Demyx rocking backwards and forwards on his heels, but he thoroughly ignored him for the moment. What was the best plan of action? Should he go straight after Xemnas? It seemed a bit too risky. Perhaps he could find Vexen again and ask him a few more questions.

But he couldn't see Vexen at the moment either. In his corner of the room there was only a half dozen people dressed as ninjas. They were standing in a cluster, flailing their arms in an organized but ungainly manner. Of course, this meant they were 'dancing', but Zexion had no desire to replicate any such activity. It just looked silly.

"So," Demyx said slowly, clearly trying to break the silence. Zexion had never understood that. Silence was comfortable. Why would anyone want to break it?

It was at that precise moment that the band decided to play. The room fell into darkness and coloured lights sprang into life. The sudden music shattered Zexion's beloved quiet, making him want to groan while everyone else cheered.

Demyx's face lit up like a beacon. "Wanna dance?"

Zexion stared at him. Demyx merely shrugged and hurried off to the dance floor, the excitement clear on his face.

And Zexion's corner of room suddenly felt incredibly, horribly empty.

* * *

"Riku, I don't get this song. Is comparing someone to suffocation supposed to be romantic?"

"Listen closer, Sora. It's the absence of the person that feels like they have no air."

"Oh. But that's..." his trailed off. He had been about to say 'silly', but for some reason the feeling suddenly seemed very familiar. Like he'd searched the universe twice over looking for someone and found their absence unbearable. Had he broken into tears when he'd found them again? The thoughts died, and he looked over at Riku. What weird thoughts.

Dismissing them, Sora bobbed on his heels, watching the crowds dance. Swarms of costumed people swam backwards and forwards through the darkness, dancing in every which way possible under the flashing lights. Sora itched to get out there and enjoy it. He didn't though. They were here to find Kairi. It would be entirely inappropriate to go dancing while on such an important mission like this.

Still, Sora's mind sped excitedly along with the beat of the music. Soon the chorus was back again. Sora grinned.

"Riku."

"...yeah?"

"You're like suffocating."

Riku snorted with repressed laughter. Despite himself, Sora felt quite ecstatic for getting a response like that at a time like this. He supposed the atmosphere really called for it. The costumes were amazing to watch in action, even more so with the frantic lighting. Case and point; there was a lady dressed somewhat like... well, the female equivalent of a cowboy. Was that a cowgirl? Probably. Whatever the right word, the cowgirl was moving from group to group of people. Soon she approached Sora, squinting at him as if trying to see behind his mask.

"Have you seen Cloud?" she asked.

"Who?"

She was gone before Sora could think any further about who Cloud might be. It didn't sound like a real name. Was it code for something? Sora looked to Riku for help. He simply shrugged. Just then, the next song started up.

"Riku, you and I could write a bad romance."

The sideways look he received was far from what he was hoping for. But it wasn't angry, or sad. Before he could figure it out Riku looked away. He really was such a weird guy sometimes.

* * *

It didn't surprise Demyx in the slightest that Xigbar was dressed as a pirate. It was even a little disappointing. What was even more disappointing, however, was that Xigbar was still avoiding him.

Demyx supposed it made sense, Xigbar being on Xemnas' list of crazy people and all, but Demyx had expected a little more when he'd spotted him in the crowd. The man was dancing as ungainly as he always had before, but when he'd danced his way over to him Xigbar had simply stopped dancing and fled faster than Demyx could follow. It was terribly disappointing.

When the pirate hat wasn't even visible in the crowd anymore Demyx left the dance floor in a huff. To his surprise, Zexion quickly stepped up on his left. Conveniently nearby, as always.

"Did you see?" Demyx complained. "He just ran off. _So_ anticlimatic."

"Anticlimactic, "Zexion corrected.

"Oh shh." Demyx watched the crowds bounce for a little longer before turning to face Zexion. "Question; what are we trying to find out here?"

"We know their goals," Zexion said loudly, trying to speak over the music, "but we don't know _what _they're going to do, or _how._"

"And how do we find that out?"

"I don't know."

Demyx thought for a long moment, for once completely oblivious to the musical ecstasy around him.

"Zexion," he said at normal voice level, leaning in close to Zexion's ear. "There's something I don't understand. You said the last hospital function was deathly boring. Why is this one so different?"

Zexion didn't say anything, but Demyx could see his eyes working furiously over the problem. After a moment Zexion glanced at him. He seemed to have come to the same conclusion that Demyx had. He leant over to speak in Demyx's ear.

"It's a trap."

All of a sudden a loud sound echoed throughout the room, making Demyx and Zexion both jump. It was only the music, however, changing songs. The relief Demyx felt was a little embarassing.

"What do we do?" he asked Zexion, leaning close again.

"I'll find Vexen. He's our best bet."

"And me?"

"Find Xigbar, if you can. If not, find _someone. _We need to figure this out."

"Alrighty." He watched as Zexion slumped off down the side of the room, avoiding the dancers like the plague. He still held the axe Demyx had found him though, so maybe there was hope for him after all. There was still time to convert him into someone who actually believed in fun.

You know, after he managed to find Xigbar and somehow forced him to spill his secrets.

* * *

"Oh well, never mind. Vivi, was it? Nice costume."

"Um, thanks."

After a few seconds of awkward silence the kid straightened his hat and walked off. Sora didn't mind overly much. Striking up conversations with random passersby was getting him nowhere. He was no close to finding Kairi than he had been when he got here.

He looked around, trying to find someone else to ambush into talking to him. His eyes lingered on the grumpy man in the armoured gnome costume, who was trying to squeeze past a crowd of people without actually touching any of them. He seemed oddly familiar now. Sora couldn't put his finger on why.

He turned to speak to Riku, but something else caught his eye.

"_Oh my __god__! _It's Eyepatchman!"

Riku gave him a perplexed look from behind his fluffy wolf mask.

"Eyepatchwho?"

"Eyepatchman! You know, the werewolf!"

"Oh. Where?"

" Right there!"

"Where? I don't see anything."

"_The man with the eyepatch_!_"_

Without waiting for a reply, Sora plunged into the dancing crowd, going after the distinctive pirate costume. The man was leaving the dance floor. Sora followed.

He caught up to him just as the man leant against the wall. He caught sight of Sora and, strangely, looked over him briefly.

"Hey, kid." He seemed quite distracted.

"Are you a werewolf?" Sora asked. It was a silly question, of course. A werewolf would just deny it. But Sora was out of leads, and he was getting desperate.

"As if!" was the man's response. He plucked his costume. "I'm a pirate."

"So where did you get those scars?"

"Ah, long story," Eyepatchman said dismissively. "Kids with keys and darkness, you know." He was looking out over the crowd. He was going to leave any second now, but Sora's mind was reeling with what he'd just said. Eyepatchman probably meant it as a way to put off conversation, by saying random words, but it just happened that they made total sense to Sora. Keyblades. Darkness. This man was totally onto it.

"Do you know Kairi?" he asked.

Eyepatchman's head spun around to stare at him. Then, perhaps realising his mistake, he suddenly looked back over the crowd.

"Uh, who? Sorry kid, don't know any Kairi, don't know where she went, don't know where they're keeping her."

"Oh, okay," Sora said sadly.

A moment passed. _Hey, wait a minute..._

Sora's eyes nearly popped when he realised the sheer brilliance of Eyepatchman's mistake. Then, a second later, Eyepatchman froze. He swivelled, staring at Sora incredulously. His hand twitched. Apparently he'd realised too.

It was time to run.

Sora dashed to the side, but Eyepatchman's hand darted out and grabbed the back of his collar, keeping him firmly in place.

"_Who _are you?" he demanded.

Before Sora could even think up a lie Eyepatchman's hand flew off his collar. Then he fell against the wall with a thud, grunting heavily. Riku grabbed Sora's hand, pulling him away through the crowd before the man could get back on his feet. The relief Sora felt at being saved washed over him like... well, like the feeling he was getting from having Riku hold his hand. The music wasn't half bad either. Sora felt like humming along with it. It made everything feel so simple. And clean.

Once they were safely on the other side of the room Riku turned back to Sora.

"Do you have _any _idea what could have happened to you just then?"

Sora was taken aback. He had been feeling triumphant, but then again he _had _just been manhandled by one of their enemies. The anger in Riku's expression was extreme. Sora's mood plummeted.

"I'm sorry," he said miserably. "Riku, I didn't mean to –"

His apology was cut off short as Riku hugged him fiercely. Sora was too shocked to even hug back. He _wasn't_ too shocked to note how nice it felt, though. Even through the costume, Riku was warm. He was warm everywhere.

Riku pulled back. "Just don't do that again." He was looking incredibly embarrassed all of a sudden. Sora couldn't think why he might be.

Either way, Sora had news.

"Riku, Eyepatchman is one of them! He knows they're hiding Kairi somewhere."

* * *

Axel leaned against the wall in irritation. He hadn't found Larxene. He found seen Xemnas or Saix. He hadn't even found Luxord's other agents, whoever they were. Not a single whiff of anything useful whatsoever. It was utterly infuriating.

As much as he usually enjoyed a club-like atmosphere, tonight it was just painful. The room was dark, the coloured lighting was unpredictable, the music was loud, the crowd of people made it impossible to cross the room freely, and the sheer number of costumes made it impossible to find anyone. In short, it was about as perfect a hiding place as there could be. It was making his night impossible.

Axel didn't know what to do in such a situation. What could he possibly do? For the last hour he'd been reduced to simply examining anyone who came near him, trying to guess the identity beneath the costume. A girl walked past him wearing a white hooded robe. It had a red triangular pattern along the hem and sleeves, but it was otherwise unremarkable. He couldn't picture Larxene being so modest.

A man by one of the tables was wearing an odd black jacket. His silver hair was incredibly long, reaching almost the floor, and he had a very long sword, but he definitely wasn't Xemnas. The face was all wrong.

Another woman in the corner had stunning silver hair too, arching out like horns with red tips. She was wearing a long red gown, with a black scarf down her back that looked like wings, and black paint on her feet to make them look like wolf paws. Again, she was completely irrelevant.

Axel was on the verge of giving up completely when his eye caught on the dessert table. He quickly made his way over to it, pushing past a few people dressed in blue coats and hats to get there. He picked up the food he'd seen and tried it. Yes, it was definitely Sea Salt Ice Cream. Axel wasn't nearly happy enough to smile, but he did feel somewhat nostalgic. It was a refreshing change from all the frustration and anger.

He continued to search.

* * *

"-and then he threw a cup of coffee at me, right at my face!"

"No way, really?"

"I wish I was kidding! I still can't get the smell out of my hair."

Sora took a sip of his drink, trying to figure out just why this girl was talking to him. She seemed nice.

She paused, looking at him through her mask. It was a pretty cool mask, really, but it didn't really seem to match the way her hair curled out to either side. Ah, but she'd explained that, didn't she? After the coffee incident she didn't get time to do her hair.

Now she was tapping her chin.

"I didn't ask your name, did I?"

Sora grinned guiltily. He hadn't intended on giving one. For the good of a stealth operation, he decided he should adopt an alias. Luckily for him, he had memorised it moments before.

"I'm Selphie," she said first.

"My name's Tom."

"Tom?" she asked.

"Tom Ato." Sora grinned to himself. The other girl didn't.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was mean of your parents." Sora's grin slipped. Wait, what? That was an awesome name! She was watching him now, a calculating expression on her face. Sora figured he should probably change the subject.

"So where do you work?"

"Oh, I work here," she said, smiling again. "I'm the receptionist."

Bells went off in Sora's head. Was that perfect or what?

"Do you know Xemnas?"

"Maximillion Xemnas? Well yeah, of course. He's my boss."

"What's he like as a boss?"

"Oh, you know, he's fine. Strict and a little overbearing, but he doesn't meet with his staff all too often, so it works."

"You don't think he'd try take over the world?"

Selphie laughed. "Oh, you really are too much, you know that?"

"Hmm, yes. Too much." Sora took another drink. Well, there goes that plan. "What are you dressed as?" he tried, attempting to divert the conversation once again.

"A moogle," she said. Sora wasn't sure he knew what she meant. "You know, a moogle?" She pointed at her white fur, then at the pompom hanging above her head. "Like Yuna?" Sora just shook her head. She visibly deflated.

But only for a second.

"That reminds me!" she chirped suddenly, completely throwing Sora off guard. He could see the way she was setting herself up, though. She was going to tell him a story, and he would be forced to listen to it. He immediately browsed the room for his escape route, his one and only escape route; Riku. "I got the catering to find this one fruit for tonight, but I don't think I ordered enough of them. Have you heard of Paupu fruit?"

Sora's head whipped around. "What?"

"Paupu fruit," Selphie repeated with a smile. "They're quite special. They say if you share it with someone you really care for, it binds you together forever. It's so romantic! I just gotta try it sometime."

Why did that sound so familiar? And... oh god, was she hinting at something? He looked at her smile, the way she was batting her eyelashes at him. Oh god, she was. He couldn't handle this. Where was Riku?

"Oh? Hm, yeah," he found himself saying, focussed entirely on looking through the crowds. "The way the yeah thing. Um, right?" Finally, he spotted Riku through the crowd, standing up against the wall just a few feet away. He smiled automatically. Escape route found.

Then he noticed that Selphie was looking at him too. At first she looked just plain disappointed, on the verge of sulking. Then, she quickly looked back at Riku, then at Sora, who promptly blushed.

"_Oh,_" she said. "Maybe you should try it too." She winked.

Sora could feel his face go hot. Share one... with Riku?

"I think you've made a mistake," he said in a hurry, "I'm not-"

"Oh, Of course not," Selphie said, grinning even wider. "Not even a little."

She winked at him again and walked over to talk to someone else. Sora suddenly felt incredibly foolish.

He walked to the nearest table to grab a drink. As he got there he tripped over something sticking out from underneath it. He managed to catch himself just before he fell, but his arms still jarred at the force of it all. With a muttered curse he looked under the tablecloth. There were two guys sleeping rather casually under the table, neither one in costume. It was so unexpectedly weird that Sora didn't even pause. He just left them there and walked away, trying not to let his mind expand on what they might have been doing under there.

He returned a few seconds later for that drink he'd forgotten to get, but then he was gone again.

* * *

Demyx took a few steps closer. He wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting, but he was getting too close to back down now. They hadn't looked at him yet. Just a little closer-

"Demyx."

Demyx jumped in fright. He spun around to face Zexion.

"What was that for?"

"What are you doing?" Zexion was looking over Demyx's shoulder at the people he was sneaking up on. The band was taking a break. Surely they woulnd't mind.

"Um... I kind of wanted their autograph?"

Zexion blinked at him. "What?"

"They're the Friendly Neighbourhood Gullwings!"

"Those three? The ones in the costumes?"

"Yeah!"

"Isn't that one on the left a moogle?"

"Yup."

"And the other one is a cat?"

"Shhhh, don't question the logic behind the magic."

Zexion was giving him a disbelieving look. Demyx shifted his feet uncomfortably. "In my defence, they're pretty awesome."

"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it." Zexion glanced at them again. "They've been playing all the music so far?"

"Yeah! Neat right? I didn't even notice at first, not until I got real close."

At this point Demyx didn't know which was more amazing; that all of the Gullwings were in the same room as him, or that Zexion was genuinely interested in discussing it with him. He was currently scratching his chin, watching them closely. On anyone else, Demyx would almost call that look jealous.

That was the precise time when Demyx managed to catch the attention of one of them. He couldn't help it, he beamed ecstatically. For a wonder, she actually came up to him, Cait Sith costume and all.

"Hiya," she said, with all the perky gusto she always did. Demyx had to hold himself from throwing a complete fangirl spaz. It was a serious issue; he'd done it before.

Less than a minute later he walked back to Zexion, who still didn't look very pleased with the situation.

"How'd you get her to talk to you like that? Which one was it?"

"That was Rikku," Demyx explained. "She's the best!"

Zexion was giving him a sceptical look at that.

"Riku? Isn't that a boy's name?"

"What?" Demyx asked incredulously. "And how many boys do you know named Rikku?"

"Just the one." Zexion fell into one of his deep thoughts for a minute, which gave Demyx the chance to wave back at Rikku as she stepped up to the microphone. She saw him, and waved back cheerfully. Demyx felt euphoria dance through him as she announced the next song.

"What'd she just say?" Zexion asked suddenly. He couldn't help but frown at him. Secret fan or what?

"She just said that they were going to play a song by The Darkness."

"Oh," Zexion mumbled. He was tapping his forehead with a finger. "But then, Riku... and darkness..."

The only thing that Demyx knew at this point was that Zexion was thinking far too much. Luckily, as his best friend, it was his self-assigned job to stop him whenever this happened, for the sake of his mental health. And he knew just the thing.

He grabbed his hand. Zexion looked up, incredibly confused. Demyx figured he'd just run with it. "Come on, it's time to dance."

Zexion tried to say something, but he didn't give him the chance. Holding his hand fast, Demyx pulled him onto the dance floor just as the song started. Zexion looked mortified.

This was going to be awesome.

* * *

Zexion was terrified, powerless and trapped on the dance floor. In some ways, this was straight out of his nightmares, being in a room full of people and dancing in front of them. But Demyx had him by the hand, and something in Zexion's mental facilities was preventing him from pulling away. Instead, he was sucked further and further into the crowds of doom. Zexion didn't want to be there. The very thought of doing this at all scared him out of his wits. Bloody Demyx and his bloody ability to destroy Zexion's comfort zone.

Much too soon Demyx had found a space amongst the thriving bodies in the darkness.

"Come on," he urged.

Zexion felt frozen. He lamely lifted his arms up a little. His feet refused to move. Zexion shut his eyes, blocking out the situation all around him in pure embarassment.

"Don't think about it, Zex," Demyx encouraged. "I won't even look, I promise." When Zexion remained motionless he spoke again. "It's gonna be okay, just dance!"

A small war exploded in Zexion's subconscious. On one side was the conservative comfort zone that was his entire life, on the other side was the thought of Demyx, the thought of fun, and the realisation that just a few hours ago he had been trying to find a way to act a bit more like Demyx. More than that, Demyx was _right _there, wanting him to dance, and all the power in the world would not have been able to make him want to disappoint Demyx.

So he closed his eyes and, in an anomaly that even Zexion himself could not explain, he danced.

When seconds passed and the world had not imploded, Zexion kept dancing. He tried opening his eyes again. No-one was looking at him, no-one at all. Not even Demyx who, true to his word, had shut his eyes as well. Life was still going on.

So Zexion kept dancing.

* * *

Axel finally thought he was onto something. There were a bunch of doors along one of the walls of the room. That in itself wasn't unusual – they could be anything from kitchens to broom cupboards for all he cared – but every time he got too close to a certain doorway he would feel it; a certain tingling feeling in his hands.

Luxord had explained that already. Apparently it happened whenever someone nearby was using one of their powers. He distinctly remembered the sensation from when he tried to break into Luxord's casino. Luxord's powers had been involved there, so whose powers were being used on the other side of this door?

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long to find out. During one of his periodic walks past the door in question, it opened. Two men walked out. One had a very bizarre swan costume on, but had very distinctive long pink hair. It was definitely Marluxia. It couldn't have been him using his power though, not unless he was making the randomly placed pot plants grow. No, the power had been coming from the other man, the taller one with black braids. Axel didn't remember him precisely, but he remembered the descriptions Luxord had given him. This was Xaldin. His reputation made him immediately intimidating, even when dressed as batman like he was.

Axel tried to tail them, but the crowd made this impossible. He settled for peeking over the top of the dancing people, watching them make their way to the furthest wall of the room. In front of the giant window was a small stage, set up with podium and a microphone. It was a mirror of the one at the other end of the room, where the band was playing, but at this other end of the room the podium was empty. As the two men approached it, Axel suddenly noticed who else was walking up on the stage. The man was unmistakable; Xemnas, complete in some sort of bi-coloured robe that somehow mixed black and white into some clothing designer's nightmare.

Saix was following him, wearing a lion skin hood with a black mane of some sort. Despite their odd choices of wardrobe, they both looked exquisitely calm.

Xemnas stepped up to the podium and gestured at the band at the other end of the hall. The song skipped to the ending few lines, giving everyone a last few seconds of fun before the music faded out and died. The crowd stopped dancing, cheering and clapping for the band as they left the stage.

When they had left the other stage, Xemnas tapped his microphone with a finger. Everyone quickly fell quiet, turning to look at him attentively. Axel squinted through the crowd. He noticed a lot of costumes he'd been observing throughout the night. To a person, everyone was watching Xemnas. Every. Single. One.

The lights hadn't come back on. It was still dark.

A voice sounded from behind Axel.

"Such a pity it came to this, don't you think?"

Axel looked behind him only to see something completely unexpected. A woman was leaning casually against the wall, a glass of wine in one hand, a knife twirling in the other. She was dressed as none other than another one of the Turks; Elena, if Axel had the name right. The face was unmistakable, however. It was Larxene. It felt like he'd been cheated, to look for her for so long only to have her ambush him like that.

"Interesting choice of costume, Axel," she said. Her teeth were bared in a dangerous smile. Her voice was just as high and musical as it always was – playful, with a hint of menace. The effect was somewhat magnified by the fact by the hall was completely silent. Why hadn't Xemnas started talking yet?

"Larxene," Axel hurriedly whispered, "You should get –"

"Sorry, can't hear you." Larxene was watching Xemnas now, still smiling dangerously. Axel wasn't dismissed so easily.

"They're going to try –"

"Kill me? I know." Axel gritted his teeth. Interrupting him was one thing, but dismissing what he was trying to say completely? It was infuriating! The way she spoke like she was completely entertained just made it all the more worse. This was some type of karmic punishment, wasn't it? Try to save Larxene's life and she just pisses the hell out of you.

It was then that Xemnas finally spoke. Apparently no-one else had noticed his long pause. Then again, Axel may have just imagined it. Larxene had a habit of making a few silent seconds seem like an excruciating hour.

"Welcome, honoured guests," Xemnas began. "Each one of you does this hospital a great service by attending our function tonight. It is a great pleasure to celebrate how close we are to achieving our marvellous goal. I assure you, this will be a hospital like no other."

Various people in the crowd started clapping at that. Axel simply frowned. He was just toying with the audience, saying things that they _thought _they understood while he meant something completely different. Was he so melodramatic that he would resort to such a tragic use of irony?

But then again, this was Xemnas. Of course he was.

"As our long awaited legacy draws near, we have further cause to celebrate." Xemnas looked to Xaldin then, who nodded in an all-too-pleased manner. "We have... _persuaded _a certain Pleasantview celebrity to join the staff roster. I introduce the man that surely needs no introduction; Marluxia Clavelle."

Many more people applauded this time. Several people cheered.

"I regret to announce my departure from the festivities, but my new associate and I have several business deals to discuss. Enjoy the rest of the evening to your hearts' desires," Xemnas said, finishing up. "But first, a brief word from someone far less important."

A few scattered people in the crowd laughed at that. Axel wasn't even sure if it had been a joke. While Xemnas was getting down from the stage, Axel made to look back at Larxene, but found her standing just at his side instead.

"You should probably know," she said over the applause, "this was our plan all along. Don't come before they do, if you don't mind. We have an _oh _so perfect trap just sitting there with their name on it. It simply wouldn't do if you tripped it instead." Axel simply grunted. Marluxia and Larxene were planning to trap Xemnas in his own scheme? Apparently their goal of overthrowing the Organization hadn't lessened in the slightest from one life to the next. Still, something didn't add up. Something tugged at his memory. For once, it seemed to come to his mind without any resistance. That was unusual, but hey, he wasn't complaining.

"You've missed something," he said. Larxene gave him a disbelieving look.

"As if," she dismissed confidently. "What could possibly go wrong?"

Axel pointed. "You remember our tall friend? The one right next to Marluxia, hand on his shoulder."

"Batman?"

"This might surprise you, but it's only a disguise." She gave him a humourless look. "Don't tell anyone," he added.

"Insufferable as ever."

"Try remember what you know about Xaldin," he said. "It just _might_ throw your plans a little."

Larxene searched his face, eyebrow raised. Axel winked at her, making her grunt in annoyance. Still, she pulled out her cellphone and walked off a few paces to make a call. He hadn't been lying, after all. If he knew Xaldin, and... well he didn't really, but what he _did _remember about Xaldin was that he was a compulsive liar in the most literal sense. His lies worked like compulsion. He poisoned the mind effortlessly, and from the look of the wacked out smile on Marluxia's face, he had definitely been given an epic dose of Xaldin's tongue. In the, erm, non-sexual sense.

Before Axel could try eavesdropping on Larxene's conversation a man who could only have been Vexen walked up at the podium. He was, for some reason, dressed as a baker.

The scientist cleared his throat, leaned into the microphone, and paused. His eyes seemed to shine.

A frosty light suddenly erupted into sight around Vexen. Axel flinched, instinctively recognising what could only be his powers over ice. He expected panic from the crowd of people, or at least a few murmurs, but they were silent. They must not be able to see it, he realised. So what was the purpose of a light that most people were completely oblivious to?

And then he felt it. The very air around him seemed to shake, trembling violently, making him stumble. It was very much the air around _him _in particular that was shaking – everyone else was still looking at Vexen quietly. That was, except for Larxene. She had gasped, eyes going wide as she looked around her.

Then the icy mist around Vexen flowed out from him across the crowd, spreading out like a ripple in a bucket of water. It moved too fast for Axel even to think about dodging. The cold ripped through Axel, chilling him to the core. For a moment, he thought it hadn't done anything. Then a light bloomed around him; a brilliant red light.

It had been mere seconds, and the other party goers hadn't noticed a thing yet, but Vexen looked straight at Axel with a devilish grin. He'd been exposed!

When Vexen's gaze wandered elsewhere Axel noted that Larxene was glowing too, a brilliant yellow.

More than that, there were half a dozen other blazing glows scattered throughout the hall, not to mention a few among Xemnas' posse behind the podium. It was those people in particular that tipped him off. There was a light around Xaldin, Lexaeus, Larxene and himself... all organization members. For once, his chats with Luxord had paid off; the lights were shining around everyone that they had known in the past tife.

Vexen looked ecstatic. Axel felt sick. Whatever he had done, he had exposed them all.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Vexen's face contorted in glee as he looked out across the hall. Amidst the sea of impatient faces were a good half dozen pillars of light shining out of select individuals. Vexen was utterly ecstatic in his success. It had worked! Out of all his plans, the simplest idea had proven the most effective. Success was such a wonderful feeling. Xemnas wouldn't kill him after all!

He had to admit, he was impressed with his own handiwork. The sheen of ice particles across the hall had acted exactly according to plan; Vexen had used his power on such a scale that everyone in the vicinity who _could _feel the vibrations _would_, effectively trapping them while the ice created something like an aurora. As such, Vexen could easily identify all the people in the room who he knew from his past life, even in costumes as they were.

Near the right side wall were numbers VIII and XII, faces aghast as they realized what was going on. How very convenient. XII was next on the list, after all. It was good to know she'd walked right in through the front door – it made the next step in their plans easier to say the very least.

Huddled by the back, near where the musicians had been playing, were numbers VI and IX. VI had been expected, but IX was a pleasant surprise. Xemnas hadn't been able to discern his identity yet, but there he was, right in the palm of their hand. What a marvellous success this plan had been.

And near the entrance were... Vexen frowned. Who were they? They didn't seem to be Organization members, or at least, he didn't think they were. His memory wasn't perfect in that area. Nevertheless, they were reacting just as strongly. Not red like VIII, nor blue like IX or yellow like XII. One had an aura of pure white, the other black. The only upside was that they looked just as confused as he felt. They would have to be dealt with, just to be safe. He would have all the time in the world to figure out who they after their capture.

Of course, the plan had been somewhat designed to find Marluxia as well, but Xaldin had somehow managed to persuade him into co-operation beforehand. Remarkably convenient, that. Clearly he had underestimated Xaldin's ability to play with people's minds.

Now that the ice had been working for a while, there were a few other dimmer lights appearing across the hall as well. But they were of no consequence; people from a past life who had less significant connections to his heart. Simply put, they didn't matter.

After a while the ice faded from sight. The lights around the room continued to glow; they would survive for a few more minutes, until the tremors from his powers died down.

"Thank you," Vexen said into the microphone. "You may all leave now, unless you wish to die a very painful death. Except for you, of course," he said, giving a significant glance to each of the people who had been glowing. "You know who you are." As he stepped down from the podium it was pleasing to see the perplexed faces of the irrelevant people gathered before him, all looking like they were trying to figure out whether he'd been joking about the death threat. In truth, he hadn't quite decided yet.

* * *

"We have to get out of here," Riku said, tugging on his sleeve, trying to pull him toward the door. "Come on!"

"But if we leave now, we might never find Kairi!" Sora complained, resisting him. "We can't leave her here."

"Sora, this is no time to argue." Riku gave him a very serious frown. "If we get caught then there'll be no-one left to save her." He turned away, looking around the crowd. "Besides, I can't protect you if we're trapped."

The other people in the crowd seemed to be quickly coming to the realisation that the party was, in fact, over. The room was filled with disgruntled murmurs and outright complaints, but they were all heading for the doors without delay. Death threats could do that, apparently. They looked downright miserable too, which seemed a little over the top from Sora's point of view. _They _didn't have to worry about saving their friend from psycho crazy people, and they weren't glowing with a creepy magical light either.

For a second, he considered whether Riku was right. If they snuck out as a part of the crowd, they might have a better chance of snooping around the hospital to find Kairi. The only problem was that there were two large, burly men standing on either side of the exit. Both had the same glowing auras he and Riku had going on, and it didn't take long to realise they were staring straight in his direction. It was very freaky, and probably meant they weren't going to let him just walk out the front door – which meant that Riku's plan was busted.

Riku swore when Sora pointed them out, and then he looked around the hall, searching for another way out. Sora was impressed by how calm he looked, despite the swearing. But then, he'd always been so calm and collected, at least on the outside. The inside was another matter entirely.

Riku tugged on his sleeve again, drawing his attention to the far wall. It was lined with what looked like janitor's closets, but one of them was open. Three people in full body costumes were standing just outside it and were staring right at them, gesturing for them to hurry. One of their costumes was... a moogle? Another was a cat. It would have looked a lot more comical if he wasn't so busy worrying.

Sora exchanged glances with Riku, who shrugged. "We're kind of out of options," he said.

And so they went for it.

* * *

"Demyx, we have to get away!"

"What? How do we do that?"

"I don't know! We just do!" Zexion felt sick. Demyx had been safe, had been anonymous and completely unknown to Xemnas before tonight. But now he was exposed – he was quite literally a beacon that Organization XIII could follow at a glance. Zexion knew it was all his fault. He was going to get Demyx killed.

"Did you see that?" Demyx asked. "I think YRP just helped those kids from the elevator escape."

"The band? Where?" he demanded. He hadn't seen anything, but Demyx was avid that it had happened.

"This way. Come on, we can escape too." Demyx led him to one of the far side of the room, furthest from the exit. He went straight to one of the many doors and opened it. It was empty.

"It's just a broom cupboard," Zexion said.

Demyx bit his lip. "I didn't make it up. It really happened."

"I believe you," Zexion said, trying half-heartedly to soothe him. When it came down to it, people disappearing into a closet was probably the least weird thing going on right now. Still, they were trapped, and the room was almost out of people. The stream of costumed guests had shrunk considerably, most of them having already left the room. If it hadn't been Lexaeus and Xaldin guarding those doors, Zexion might have considered making a run for it. As it was, they were trapped.

"I'm sorry, Demyx," he said. "I never meant for this to happen."

But Demyx just folded his hands behind his head, shooting him a smile. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out." Zexion said nothing in return. He just hoped desperately that Demyx was right.

* * *

Axel gave Larxene the thumbs up. "Excellent work by the way. I can see they really fell for your trap."

"Oh shut up," she snapped.

* * *

Xigbar caught up to Xemnas just as he reached the elevator. Saix and Marluxia gave him a flat look –the former out of disapproval, the latter mostly because he was being mind controlled. He ignored both of them, speaking to Xemnas.

"_Hey _sir, leaving so soon?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. Xemnas just looked at him coldly. Oh well, he'd it tried the friendly way. This time Xigbar just held out his arm and pointed to his watch.

The three other men all looked at it, watching as the two hands revolved at alarming speed in opposite directions. Saix frowned. Xemnas' eyes narrowed. Marluxia's face fell into a lazy grin as he tried to poke it.

_Xaldin needs to work on getting his mind games right, _he thought.

* * *

"Namine, it's time."

She looked up at him, face painted with worry. For a moment he thought she would refuse, but in the end she nodded, drawing her expression into one of focus. He saw nothing else, but he knew what she was doing; snapping the last few chains of memory back in place, putting the finishing touches on the hearts she had access to.

Luxord continued his part as well. His eyes were closed, and he was half aware of the fact that he was idly shuffling the deck of cards he held in his hands. It didn't really bother him; his mind was focussed on rearranging the flow of time. It wasn't too hard, really. He was only changing it in one place, just one floor of the building. Still, concentration would intensify it dramatically.

And it was working. He could feel the effects of it all even from down here in the parking lot.

* * *

The room was next to empty now; all the people who had been allowed to leave were gone, leaving just a handful of people scattered around the hall. Before Zexion could think any further than that, a tremor went through in the room. No-one said anything at first, but then it happened again. Colour flooded through his mind, a rush of images he couldn't understand.

Physical twitching rocketed up his arms. He gripped them tightly, trying to ignore the numbing sensation. He looked to Demyx, only to find him doing much the same. He looked scared.

"Zexion-"

Demyx interrupted himself by suddenly arching back and falling to the ground. Before he hit the floor, water erupted into life in the air around him, a writhing mass of water floating in a sphere around Demyx's unconscious form.

For once, logical thought was replaced with pure erratic worry; what if Demyx drowned?

He took a step forward, but felt his control over himself slip away. Before he knew it he was on the floor, watching powerlessly as memory flooded his mind. He could remember so much. He was Zexion, the doctor who lived in Pleasantview. But he was also Zexion, the Cloaked Schemer, number VI in the Organization. Before that he had been Ienzo, adopted son of Ansem the wise and scientist at Radiant Garden. Three lives worth of memories, all crashing down on him at once.

But he could not afford the time to sort through them right now. He struggled to catch his breath at first, but forced it to return, and he forced each of his limbs to move as he got to his feet.

Zexion couldn't see Demyx or the room around him; all he saw was darkness. No, shadows. Illusions? Of course, he could control those. It was easy. He hadn't been able to five minutes ago, but he had in his past life – which he r_e_membered now. Precise control of such a basic illusion hardly even warranted thought now. With his hands upraised, he made an opening gesture. Immediately, and obediently, the dome of shadow around him followed suit; it opened and faded away, leaving Zexion standing on the dance floor.

Chaos ruled the room around him. Different parts of the hall were host to columns of fire, vortexes of lighting and funnels of wind, each shaking the floor violently. Darkness pervaded it all, consuming the walls with tendrils that licked the floor and ceiling. But Zexion ignored all that. He ran straight for the roiling mass of water floating in mid air. Demyx was in there.

Zexion didn't stop when he reached the edge. He took a breath and walked straight into it. He slowed down, feet floating off the floor as the water enveloped him, but he swam forward, towards the immobile form of Demyx. He was just floating there, eyes closed. The water made Zexion's sight blurry; he couldn't see whether Demyx was breathing or not, but there were no bubbles of air escaping from his nose. He could only hope that he wasn't too late.

Soon, and much too long later, he finally swam close enough to grab hold of Demyx's shoulder. He used it to pull himself all the way there, floating above Demyx. Instinctively he tried to call his name, but only a gush if bubbles came out, forfeiting his air supply in the process. Clamping his mouth shut, he leaned in close to Demyx's face. And, in what felt like slow motion, Zexion bashed his head against Demyx's as hard as he could.

Two things happened at once. Demyx's eyes snapped open. And the water suddenly decided to obey the laws of physics. With all the grace of a popped water balloon, the water gushed out over the floor, leaving Demyx and Zexion very wet and gasping for breath, but otherwise alive. The sheer relief that flooded his mind was nigh upon overwhelming.

Demyx looked up at him then, hair damp and clinging to his face, for all the world looking like a fish out of water. Then he smiled that big goofy grin that he saved just for Zexion, the one that made his heart beat faster every time.

"Hi," Demyx said, in his usual chipper voice.

"Hey," he said back numbly.

"I think this is the part where I make a joke about making you wet," Demyx said quietly. He was smirking with the full knowledge of just how terrible his pun was, the genuine mirth lighting up his face. Zexion couldn't think of anything witty to say back, instead realising very suddenly that he was sitting on Demyx's stomach. But he didn't move. His usual inhibitions about personal space went flying out the window; instead he gave into the pure indulgence of having the other man pressed against him. They hadn't landed in a terribly comfortable position, but it definitely helped when he felt Demyx's hands casually snake their way over his hips.

Of course, he remembered now. He had loved Demyx before, in the past, and he was growing to love him again. It was all very confusing, trying to sort out the memories of before from the ones of now, but he figured he could manage. With a tender hand he brushed a stray piece of wet hair away from Demyx's face, earning him both a blush and a grin from the other man. It seemed fair that since they were in _this _life, he should follow follow the path this life had created. The alternative just felt like cheating. So, under the guidelines that he was very fond of Demyx but wasn't sure if those feelings were completely mutual yet, he regretfully climbed off Demyx and help him get to his feet. This was actually a lot easier said than done, but, they managed.

After pulling him up, Demyx's hand seemed to linger in his own for a heartbeat longer than was necessary. As much as he wanted to spend a few glorious moments overanalysing the implications of that, the situation around them called for his attention.

The other catastrophes around the room had subsided by now. Several battered, bruised and burnt individuals were all standing in different spots of the room. He knew them all like the back of his hand now, his memory flawless, and it stood to reason that they all knew him as well.

They didn't get any time to celebrate this fact, however. First Axel fainted, slumping to the ground with a thud. Larxene soon followed. Unexpectedly, Lexaeus and Xaldin were next. Vexen let out a shrill cry as he followed suit.

Demyx managed to shoot him a quick grin before he blacked out as well. Zexion could feel the pressure building up between his eyes. He would do the same any second.

The doors opened then. Xemnas strode into the room, black and white coat flaring out behind him, Saix and Marluxia right on his heels. He surveyed the room and gave curt orders that Zexion couldn't quite make out.

"Of course," Saix said, more audible as he walked further into the room.

"Pony," Maluxia cried ecstatically.

Then consciousness slipped away from him.

* * *

Dear Awesome Internet People, here is your next shipment of fanfiction. Behind-the-scenes updates include delicious cake, sleep deprivation, and the sponsoring of this chapter by the wonderfully fantastic DoomShuriken, who has Beta'd like the pro she truly is. Send her your love! (In a non-creepy way, of course)

And remember that reviews are worth their weight in gold! And since they weigh nothing whatsoever, you can definitely afford to give one. Yay!


	15. Chapter 15

This update has been a long time coming. As always I try to work on this whenever possible, but sometimes Life is just a bit of a dick and doesn't let you. Boo, Life, you suck sometimes. But who knows! Anyone with a knack for optimism should apply it here and we'll see what happens. Things are going _down_ in this fic.

As usual we should all parade our thanks in the direction of Doomshuriken, who is a wonderful fantastic person and is quite possibly an editing god. All the internet awards go to her. Also a brief salute to terracannon876, who left a super exciting review but I can't reply to it for some reason. So, thanks. :D

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Sora woke up. For a moment he panicked. He didn't remember where he was or how he got there. His leg hurt as he sat up. So did his head. His breathing came short and sharp as he looked around himself and saw only white in all directions.

After a moment he realised he wasn't going blind – the walls and floor were white, that was all. The room was small, bare and cube-like but with no windows or doors. The walls weren't spongy like he imagined they would be in a mental hospital. No, they were cold and hard. Nothing in his recent memory gave any hint as to why he'd be in a room like this, and it didn't exactly bode well. How had he gotten inside? How was this room even physically possible? For a while he just sat there waiting for whichever hideous doom fate had planned for him. Which must have been coming slowly. Very, very slowly.

His fear ebbed away when long minutes had passed it was clear that he was in no immediate danger. He was even a little bored, so he decided to lie back down. His head throbbed and his eyes stung, so he closed the latter and tried to think. What did he remember?

Too much, he realized. Destiny islands. The Gummi Ship. Exploring Crazy World. Fighting Heartless. Nobodies. And, of course, Riku and Kairi. But he also remembered the Riku and Kairi from his current life. They were so similar and yet completely different; they had the same personality and, rather oddly, the same names, but their lives and experiences were completely unalike. Come to think of it, the same thing applied to himself. Luckily for him the sheer amount of ridiculous things that had happened in his past life cushioned the weirdness of this new experience. He had wielded giant keys, used magic and fought alongside an anthropomorphic mouse. Why not have two sets of memories as well?

Next he did what seemed to be the best thing to do in the situation; he summoned the keyblade. It came to him easily; suddenly flashing into existence in a burst of white light, just like it had a few nights ago. He dismissed it and tried summoning it again, paying close attention to whichever parts of his mind were in control of the others. His experiment... well, if he was being honest with himself, it didn't accomplish anything. He didn't _feel _any different. He was the same person he had been before he'd ended up in the room, but that didn't make sense; memories tended to define a person's personality, but if he had two sets of memories now where did that leave him? Was he past-Sora, present-Sora, or some weird hybrid of them both? Was there even a difference?

He pushed himself into a cross-legged position. Thinking wasn't getting him anywhere and – no offense to the room or anything, but he'd rather figure this stuff out in a place that actually made sense to him. Rooms without entrances or exits just didn't make the cut. So, following on from that, the next thing to do would be to escape. Which was all very well and good in theory, but just how did one go about it in a room like... well, _this? _

He got to his feet and, with a small flash of white light, summoned his keyblade. Its weight was familiar in his hand, as if nothing had changed at all. But... well, he wasn't going to think about what that might imply. One way or another it was time to get out of here.

His first plan consisted of pointing the keyblade at the wall and seeing if it would... unlock, or something. It didn't work – which was fair enough. It wasn't a very well thought out plan. His next plan had him putting his ear to different parts of the wall and tapping them to see if the sound changed. He gave up after a while, mainly because he wasn't entirely sure of what he was listening for or even what a change in sound would mean. They did it in movies, so he felt obliged to try it out, but it was going nowhere fast. His third and final plan constituted wildly hitting the wall with the keyblade to try smash his way to freedom. Needless to say this worked just about as well as the previous plans, with the added benefit of making his wrists hurt from the impact.

When Sora realised he was running out of ideas he started to panic again. Ditching the keyblade, he tried hitting the walls with his fists, then kicked them, then resorted to screaming for help. Nothing worked.

As frustration and hysteria battled for supremacy he found himself wondering if he would run out of air faster by trying to escape. But then, that didn't make sense. Why would anyone go through all the effort of putting someone in a box if they were just going to suffocate? That's what strangling was for – and it took far more effort to create a room that defied physics if that's all they were going for. No, there had to be a way that air was getting into the room. Unless it was magic. Then he was basically s–

All thought was lost when an explosion jarred the world and Sora hit the floor. Consciousness returned slowly. Eventually, when he managed to force his eyes open, his ears were ringing and he hurt all over. If his head had hurt before now it _throbbed. _He struggled to his feet using his keyblade as a crutch, squinting through the pain. There was now a hole in the wall, half as big as a person, and scorch marks covered the floor where it wasn't covered in debris. He stared. He most definitely had _not _done that.

After a while the ringing in his ears lessened to the point where he could hear voices, hushed female voices. He couldn't make out what they were saying but, well, anything trumped being trapped in an impossible room. When he felt like he could safely take a step forward without collapsing from dizziness he made his way slowly towards the hole. It was small enough that he had to crawl through it in the end, which hurt, but all things considered it was definitely still the best option.

The first thing that assaulted his vision was the bright lights glaring down at him from the ceiling. The bleached white corridor he had crawled into had plastic vinyl flooring that chilled his hands on contact. He had all of three seconds to have some serious flashbacks to the decor of Castle Oblivion before he realised he wasn't alone in the hallway.

Three women stood in a cluster half a dozen meters down the hall to his left. They were arguing with each other right up until Sora caught the eye of one of them, who proceeded to point at him and address the other two triumphantly.

"Look! See? He's fine. You had nothing to worry about."

"Rikku, you used _explosives_ on a _stealth_ mission to _rescue _someone," one of them replied, tone heavy with disapproval. "Are you telling me that makes perfect sense to you?"

"I'm telling you that he's fine and you should stop doubting me!"

Sora lost track of the argument somewhere around the word 'Rikku', but while the first two argued the third girl came rushing over to him. She helped pull him to his feet – which made him wince – and started checking him for wounds by methodically patting him down. It would have been more embarrassing if he didn't think he actually needed it: he ached everywhere at once - except his head, which _pounded. _

Without warning he felt the familiar sensation of magic healing and gasped. It was like he'd been plunged into a cold pool of water and his wounds had simply shrivelled up and disappeared. He blinked, feeling his mental faculties fall back into place. The woman was staring at his face, eyebrows knitted together with concern.

"How do you feel now?" she asked.

"A lot better," he answered honestly. He ran a hand across his face and arms experimentally, finding no cuts or bruises of any kind. No throbbing pain in his head either. All up it was a great change, though it came with the realisation that he was still wearing his costume for the masquerade ball. It looked as bad as he had just been feeling; burnt, shrivelled and torn in a dozen different places. But it was fine for now, so he put it out of his mind. "Thanks," he said with a smile at the woman.

When she smiled back it all clicked into place. "Woah," he said, pointing at her accusingly. "I know you! Yuna?"

She nodded, her short hair and long-ass braid swinging in response. "That's right." The other two girls joined them now, and Sora identified them as Rikku and Paine. They were the Gullwings. They looked practically normal compared to whatever pixie-type thing they had been in the last life, though their dress code hadn't changed much. There were no wings this time, but black leather, orange scarves and frilly half-dresses were all making a reappearance. None of them seemed to like sleeves very much either, and showing off copious amounts of skin must have been the 'in' thing at... wherever they came from.

"The last time I saw you guys you were _this _big," he said unbelievingly, gesturing with his hands at what he assumed was the appropriate pixie size.

"Actually," Rikku jumped in excitedly, "We saw you last night at the ball. You're welcome, by the way."

He blinked. "For what?"

"For saving you, dummy," she rebutted. "You know, with the adorable costumes? Giant cat thing that got you out the backdoor?"

"That was you?"

"Don't ask," Paine prompted sourly.

"Anyway," Yuna cut in, "We're acting on Luxord's orders here. Are your memories back? Keyblade working and all?"

"Well, yeah but..." he fumbled mentally. "Is that Luxord as in My-facial-hair-makes-me-look-like-a-pretentious-douchebag Luxord?" They all nodded in a weird synchronized fashion. "Isn't he... you know, evil?"

"Different life," was all the explanation Yuna gave. "Long story short, we're taking Xemnas down."

"And we need you to help us," Rikku chimed in.

"We also needed this to be a stealth mission," Paine added with a pointed glance at Rikku, who blushed and looked elsewhere. "I don't see that lasting much longer."

When he stopped to think about it, it was weird how an explosion of all things would've gone unnoticed in... well, anywhere. Which raised all kinds of questions.

"Um, so where are we exactly?" he tried first.

"We're still in the hospital," Yuna explained, though she was looking down the corridor distractedly. "There isn't much time. The Organization are all here and we need to stop them before they get Kingdom Hearts. Will you help us?"

All three girls awaited his response, but a moral dilemma surfaced in his mind. "I need to find Riku," he said, unable to hide the sudden urgency he felt. How had he not thought of that before? Rikku stared at him with a slight tilt of her head. "Uh, I meant the other Riku. My Riku. And Kairi as well," he added in what was totally not an afterthought, not at all. Guilt rose but quickly turned to concern for both of them. "Where are they? Do you know?"

"We'll get them," Paine assured him, but before they could get any further in their discussion a booming voice echoed across the hall.

"Hey!"

All three girls spun to see what Sora already could; Xigbar full clad in his Organization cloak. A thousand thoughts about tacky dress sense rose in his mind, but all derailed when he realised that Xigbar was holding a gun – and one of those weird spiky purple guns at that. The imminent danger pulled his inner thoughts to a dead stop.

"Run, Sora!"

"What?"

As Paine drew her sword and charged at Xigbar, Sora's first instinct was to do the same. But Rikku had his sleeve in hand before he could even try. Yuna glanced at her and a silent understanding seemed to pass between them. Then, as she turned with guns raised at Xigbar, Rikku grabbed his arm and physically pulled him down the hallway in the opposite direction.

At first he wanted to resist, to go back and fight Xigbar like he knew he probably still could, but Rikku's grip was _strong. _He practically had no choice but to run along with her, turning down corner after corner. She seemed to know where she was going, but with every echo of gunfire she glanced behind her with what looked to be worry. Eventually it grew too much for her. She stopped, pointing down the hallway.

"I'm sorry Sora, but I can't leave them behind. There's a bunch of rooms with huge glass windows straight down there. Let out all the Organization members that you see."

"What!?" he cried.

She cringed. "Right, didn't get to explain." With a glance behind them she ushered Sora behind yet another corner, hushing him with her hand. "There's no time for the whole story, but basically Xemnas is going to kill off the expendable members of his group to... do something I really don't understand, but it will make Kingdom Hearts appear. You follow?" He frowned in confusion. She continued nonetheless. "Your job is to make sure that _doesn't _happen while we distract Xigbar. Now go do it."

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm as she turned to leave. "What if I run into someone else?"

"Run away _really_ fast," she advised, giving him a sympathetic look. "Don't try anything silly on your own. We can't risk it at this point."

"And how do I know who are the bad guys are?" he urged. "Which ones _don't _want me dead?"

"One through five and seven are bad. Kill those ones," she said. Then she gave him a brief thumbs up before turning and running back around the corner, heading straight back to the fight with Xigbar.

The adrenaline made Sora take off down the corridor in the way Rikku had pointed, but even as he ran he knew he still had no idea what he was doing. Numbers One to Five and Seven, she'd said. The only problem was he'd never bothered to learn the numbers. This was going to get really complicated really fast.

His first instinct was to just run back to the fight and help the Gullwings, but thoughts of Riku clung to the front of his mind. His Riku, not the other one, and when it came down to it he wanted to find him, which he couldn't do if he was preoccupied with fighting.

Oh, and he had to find Kairi. She was here too.

When he rounded the next corner he found exactly what Rikku had described. There was an imposing metal door with a number pad on the left side. To the right of the door the wall became glass looking into a room beyond; white walls encompassed a huge grey floor. In the middle stood a woman in a straight black coat, blonde hair in a very distinctive style, looking for all the world like she had insect feelers poking out of her head. It was unmistakably Larxene. He had no idea how she managed to get that coat again, but that was hardly the most pressing issue. She had her knives out, metal glinting between her fingers as she eyed the walls around her. When her gaze swept right past him without stopping he started to catch on to the fact that the window might have been one of those one-way things. Maybe all the walls were windows. Was the rest of the Organization watching somewhere too?

He didn't catch onto what was really going on until a section of the wall slid open to admit Axel, striding in wearing the same black coat. The biggest hint to the situation was how he was toting his chakrams, clutching them in his all-too-casual manner. His eyes were locked onto Larxene's, neither of them dropping their gaze as they stood at opposite sides of the room. A long pause followed where Sora's mind raced to find a way to stop what was clearly going to happen from this side of the glass. Then, before he had come up with any solution, a red light flashed through the room. Axel and Larxene rushed at each other.

Fire and lightning flashed on the other side of the glass as Sora ran back to the metal doorway. He tried the first combination that he could think of: 1234. The small screen above the numbers flashed with the words 'Access Denied'.

He tried again: 6969. 'Access Denied'. His third attempt, 9999, had the same result.

When he clicked on to just how many possible combinations he could try before this worked, he whipped out his Keyblade and pointed it at the keypad. It did its usual thing; a thin white beam of light shot out the end and hit the keypad, just like it did when it unlocked anything. But the light hit the screen and fuzzed out, bringing up the words 'Keyblade Denied'. Of course, it only made sense that the Organization would have thought of this beforehand. They had planned all of this. It wasn't going to work. He couldn't open it.

He ran back to the window. Fire lined the walls on the other side of the glass, searing the floors as Axel lobbed fireballs at his foe, the savage nymph dancing out of reach each time. She flicked her hand, tossing knives with deadly aim. Before they hit their mark they were deflected by chakrams, which flew across the room in a sudden retaliation. It became harder to follow when Larxene started calling electricity out of the lights around the room; one would suddenly burst with a searing light that made Sora flinch and look away. There had to be a way to stop this, to get them to stop killing each other before Xemnas won.

He hit the glass with his Keyblade, only to have it bounce off and jar his teeth at the same time. He bashed on the wall with his fist, screaming at them to stop. But they couldn't hear him and the fight rushed on, now at close quarters.

It was over before he knew it. He saw Axel dashing in, swinging his weapons in a circle that Larxene was leaping right into. He closed his eyes at the last minute, unable to watch. He'd seen violence before, even killed Larxene herself once before, but she was a Nobody then. It had been necessary. It had been clean. This time it was full blown murder. Whatever had been blocking the sound from the room suddenly disappeared, and as the sound of metal clattering to the floor reached his ears Sora felt his stomach clench. Here he was trying to stop Xemnas and he didn't even know if he'd be able to kill him when the time came. Sure, Xemnas was evil, but committing murder? Even his second layer of past memories was iffy on the morals behind that.

When he opened his eyes Axel was gone, presumably through another opening that had appeared in the far wall. And in the center of the floor was Larxene, or what used to be Larxene. Her form was crumpled with her limbs contorted at unnatural angles, bloody footsteps leading away from her. For a moment he just stared, unable to look away. Then he threw up.

* * *

Vexen mentally frowned as Xigbar swept into the room. The man's robes were in shambles; ripped and burnt in a dozen different places. How that had even happened was beyond him, but Vexen didn't bother dignifying the man with acknowledgement. He just continued scribbling on the paper in front of him as if he was taking notes on Larxene's death. It was a ruse, of course, but Xigbar of all people wouldn't be paying enough attention to notice. A long moment passed.

"Problem," the scarred man finally said. "Sora's escaped."

"What?!" Vexen roared in response, ruse abandoned instantly. "That is impossible! We prepared for everything he's capable of." Xigbar just shrugged. Vexen mentally raced through the possibilities. "Was it the Keyblade?" he asked, but he wasn't surprised when Xigbar shook his head. Through his own careful science the Keyblade was physically unable to open anything at all in the building. "Magic, then?"

"Nope," was Xigbar's answer, clearly enjoying this much more than he should have been.

"The power of friendship?" he spat sarcastically.

"Nah-uh." Xigbar noticed the look on Vexen's face and promptly dropped his humoured smile to summon something a tad more humble. "It was the Gullwings," he explained. "Uh, short pixie girls, used to work for Maleficent. Got taller, work for Luxord. You know."

Vexen steadied himself. Losing control now would hardly help the plan. "You took care of them, I trust?"

The silence that followed made him all but want to abandon his calm and hiss something scathing at the man. Not one but _four _armed people were loose on the floor, some of which had explosives and Xigbar had let them get away. Fantastic.

"We can't risk anything at this point," he said, quickly thinking. "Take Xaldin and search the halls. Find them, Xigbar."

The other man looked intrigued. "Don't you usually insist using numbers over names?"

He gave him a flat look. Xigbar threw up his hands in mock apology. "'Kay fine, I'm on it."

But he paused on the way to the door, looking out across the room Vexen had prepared.

"And those guys?" Xigbar asked with a gesture at the bodies on the tables around the room. "What do we need with a bunch of half-dead kids?"

"Insurance," he explained. When Xigbar didn't catch on he tried again. "Sora would never let anyone he knew die willingly, and Axel knows better than to move against us as long as we have Roxas' life in our hands. We have the upper hand against the two of them. But we won't _need _it as long as _you_ _do your_ _job_!"

"Alright, alright," Xigbar said wryly, finally leaving the room with a sarcastic salute.

As he swept out Vexen turned back to the experiment he'd avoided drawing attention to. It was more of a security plan than anything else. His old memories had awakened more than he had anticipated; he knew how this scenario ended. Last time his science had helped him right up to the point where Xemnas had planned his death, by Axel's hand no less. When the plan hadn't been within the Superior's grasp he'd simply taken control by mass murder. And what was happening this time around? They didn't have Luxord, they couldn't kill the members in order like they'd planned. Where would they pick up the slack?

When they ran out of the excess Organization members he knew Xemnas would start killing off those loyal to him as well. He didn't know who would be first or if any of them would stand a chance at all, but this time he was going to be prepared. Shields be damned, he needed people to _die. _

With a final twist the sharpest spike on his shield came loose. He hefted it with one hand, slashing it through the air. Yes, this time when everything hit the fan he was going to survive this – no matter what.


End file.
